


In Any Universe

by Jerry_Larchive



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 64,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerry_Larchive/pseuds/Jerry_Larchive
Summary: April Kepner is a brilliant, vivacious, thoroughly badass trauma surgeon. Jackson Avery is a shy colleague, a bit of a nerd, and doesn't attract much notice. But his life is about to change in ways unimaginable and he will find his fate woven with Aprils. Can his crush become a love that will transcend time and space?





	1. It Begins (Again)

Jackson Avery emerged from the alleyway in downtown Seattle, his clothes soaked through. This wasn't unusual in rainy Seattle, except that the city hadn't seen rain in three days now. A woman passing by looked at him quizzically, drawn by his handsomeness, but then, noticing his drowned dishevelment, she quickened her pace to draw past him.

Jackson didn't care about the woman and her reaction to him. He didn't even care about his soaking wet clothes. All he cared about was finding a newspaper. He had to know today's date. Then he would worry about the rest of it.

  
  


April stood in the parking lot, looking up at the construction crew working to repair the damage caused by the explosion a week ago. They had been so lucky. Only one casualty. Well, three people had died, but only one of their own. That was bad enough, but it could have been much, much worse. Too bad about that little girl though. April didn't give a second thought to the would be rapist that also perished.

But Stephanie would be missed, greatly missed, especially by April, who had enjoyed a special bond with her through all their hours working together in the ER. April had relished becoming the brilliant young surgeon's mentor. She had such a bright future ahead of her too. Until that asshole had snatched it away.

She felt, rather than saw, a presence next to her. Glancing to her right she recognized the colleague now standing beside her and staring up at the third floor efforts along with her.

“Hi, Jackson.”

The nerdily handsome young ENT surgeon returned her greeting.

“Hi April. They're already working on it, huh?”

“Well, they finished their investigation two days ago and God knows we need the space back so Bailey pulled the trigger as soon as she got the go ahead. I heard she's redoing the whole hospital practically.”

“Can't say it doesn't need it. Last renovation was way back when it was Seattle Grace.” Jackson replied, taking off his glasses and wiping them with his lab coat.

“Before my time.” April replied, thinking Jackson was actually very handsome without his glasses on. You could really see those incredible eyes. “Were you here then?”

Jackson settled his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “April, no, I was at Mercy West, with you, remember?”

April tried to recall. “I don't know why I don't remember that. I remember Reed, and Charles, but I don't remember you for some reason.”

“Well you and Reed and Charles were always the Mercy West Musketeers so ...”

April cringed but laughed. “Ha! I hope no one else called us that.”

“No, probably just me.” Jackson answered quietly.

“Okay, I'm off for home. Hot date tonight with my laundry basket. Have a good one.” she called over her shoulder as she turned and started for her car.

“Sure. Have a hot laundry date. Have a good one, I mean.” he answered. He chided himself. _Hot laundry date?!? WTF?_ It happened every time he was around women, especially every time he was around a woman like April Kepner, who he found very attractive.

It wasn't just her looks either, he thought as he watched her find her little Miata and immediately lower the top. It was also the fact that she had established herself as a kickass trauma surgeon, extremely well respected around Grey Sloan. And her bubbly personality made her a favorite among the patients and staff and probably the most popular doctor in the hospital. Her colleagues admired her, the Resident's and Interns worshiped her, and yet somehow she remained humble and unaffected by it all. Jackson had recognized long ago how amazing she was but had never been able to work up the courage to approach her for anything other than the occasional professional interaction.  _Someone like April Kepner would never be interested in me_ , he had told himself time and time again. 

His gaze followed her as she zipped out of the parking lot, her red hair flying behind her. And then Jackson Avery turned and trudged toward the hospital door. His hot date was a tonsillectomy and the social highlight of his shift was that it was pizza night in the cafeteria.

  
  


The price was steep for a bike with this many miles on it but he needed transportation fast and the Harley store would take a credit card. At least this '06 Dyna Street Bob was in decent shape. He didn't need it to last that long but he couldn't afford to nurse a broken down machine. He figured he wouldn't be around for long. He never was.

The salesman was so happy to move this older bike out of inventory that he threw in a helmet too.

“Ya know, not much demand for bikes up here. You can only ride in the summer.” he told Jackson as he ran the Visa handed to him.

“Hoping the weather holds up for awhile.” Jackson answered, praying the card went through. Sometimes they didn't.

The man laughed. “Just you keep hoping, fella.” he said, sliding the slip and a pen across the desk.

  
  


Jackson gunned the bike onto Alaskan Way. The leathers he bought were a welcome change from the clothes he had worn into the store. They were still damp from the drenching he'd received earlier that morning and had begun to chafe.

He pointed the Harley south toward Grey Sloan and opened the throttle. He had some people to locate. And if it was pizza night in the cafeteria, he didn't want to miss it. 

 


	2. Recon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson needs information.  
> He needs to know about April.  
> He needs to know where they stand in their relationship.  
> And he needs to know about Jackson.

Jackson made it to the cafeteria just in time. His tonsillectomy had run a little long and with pizza night ending at eight, he knew he would be cutting it close. Even so, by 7:50 or so, the best pizza was usually sold out but he would be happy with anything he could get, even pineapple. A couple of burly guys in scrubs jumped in front of him just as he got to the end of the line but he kept his protest to himself. He wasn't the type to make a fuss.

Sure enough, there were only a few pieces of pizza left when he got to the serving area. Two pieces of cheese, and one pineapple. He took one cheese and the pineapple, even though the pineapple usually gave him small painful sores in his mouth. He figured he was sensitive to the acidic fruit.

“Hey Buddy, back for more, huh?” asked the Food Service employee with his long hair bunched up under a hair net.

“Can't miss pizza night.” Jackson replied, wondering if the man remembered him from the previous month.

“How was that combo? Good stuff, right?” the man nodded.

That was odd.  _Did I have the combo last time?_ Jackson couldn't remember.

He smiled weakly and left the counter with his pizza to go find a seat.

He was sitting alone at a table when Ben, one of the Resident's Jackson had had on his service awhile ago appeared. “Jackson, right? Anyone sitting here?” he asked, indicating one of the other chairs at Jackson's table.

Jackson shook his head.

“Great, thanks.” Ben answered. “Alex,” he called out across the room, “over here.”

Ben sat down and was joined by Alex Karev, who Jackson knew was Grey Sloan's peds surgeon and the famous Arizona Robbins hand picked protege.

Alex nodded to Jackson, sat down, and the two were soon discussing the fortunes of the local football team, the Seahawks.

Jackson saw their plates were piled high with what looked for all the world like pieces of combo pizza.

During a pause in their conversation, Jackson spoke up. “Hey, excuse the interruption but where did you guys get that pizza? I was here before you and they were out of everything but this.” he indicated the sad remnants on his plate.

Alex chuckled but made no reply. Ben smiled. “Well, we kind of talked the food guys into saving us a combo since we knew we'd be late.”

“The food gals you mean.” Alex snorted. “Carol, the manager, has a thing for my man Ben here so all he has to do is smile and ...”

They bumped fists and Ben said to Jackson, “You want some. I got more than I can eat.”

“Oh, no. No thanks. I gotta go get prepped for another surgery. See you guys. Go Hawks.”

But Alex and Ben were no longer paying attention and were now comparing cars.

Jackson bussed his dishes and trash and left the cafeteria wondering if that server who remembered him from last pizza night might save him some pizza next time. But he didn't want the guy to mistake that for personal interest so he dismissed the thought.

He never noticed the man with the gray hoodie pulled forward, sitting in the foyer, who rubbed his short cropped beard as he observed Jackson Avery make his way from the cafeteria.

Once he was sure all the people who may recognize him were clear of the area, he stood up, dumped the remains of his plate of combo in the trash, and moved toward the back stairs. He needed a place to sleep where he'd be out of the way and unlikely to be discovered. And thanks to long experience with the hospital's on-call rooms, he knew exactly where to go.

_Glasses? Fucking glasses? And what is that eating alone shit? Karev and Warren barely said two words to him. And pizza dregs? Don't you own this place? Maybe not._ That would be a blow. It is so much easier to manipulate variables if you're calling the shots. And, of course, the big question in his mind,  _where's April?_

  
  


Jackson emerged from the on call room and made his way towards the mens room. At the nearby nurses station one of the nurses nudged her friend. “Who's that?” she asked.

Her friend stared, squinting at the retreating figure. “Isn't that the ENT, Jack something or other?”

“You mean Jackson Avery?”

“Yeah, that's the one.”

“I don't think so. This guy is hot.”

Meanwhile, Jackson was splashing water on his face. He had managed to locate the duty schedule last night and saw, to his relief, that April Kepner was alive and well and scheduled for a twelve hour shift in her ER today at 10AM. Jackson, meanwhile, would end his twelve hour shift at 2PM. That four hour overlap would tell him a lot, especially if he could contrive a visit the ER or otherwise create some interaction. Of course, everything would be more difficult for him in daytime as the hospital was crowded and bustling with activity. Detection was far more likely now than it had been last night. And he must avoid detection at all costs. Fortunately this was not his first rodeo and he had learned a lot from his previous experiences.

  
  


April pulled her Miata into an open physician parking slot and raised the roof. In Seattle, one learned never to park and leave a convertible top down for more than five minutes. Seattle could turn a convertible into a bathtub with bucket seats faster than one could say _anastomosis._

She gathered her things together and walked briskly into the hospital, barely taking notice of the man in the motorcycle helmet straddling his Harley. The absence of notice wasn't anything like mutual, however, as the man subtly followed every move she made through his reflective visor.

This was always the moment that got to him; seeing her for the first time. No matter how often, it made his pulse quicken and his breathing stop. Oh how he wished he could go to her, pull her close, and hold her. If he could have, he probably wouldn't ever let go. But it was imperative that she not see him, not recognize him, that he not try to intervene in events directly. Previous efforts to do so had been disastrous. Not that staying undercover had worked any better. But he had to keep trying. There was no other choice.

The first stage of his reconnaissance was now almost complete. He had ascertained that this Jackson was, while quite different than himself, at least still an ENT here at Grey Sloan. That wasn't always the case but it did make some things easier for him. He had also established that April was also here and, at present anyway, alive and well. Her two seat convertible, lacking a car seat, and the fact that both were here without going anywhere near the nursery upstairs told him that there was likely no Harriet. In itself, this did not surprise him too much.

Harriet was what he liked to refer to as a _variable_ , something that changed a lot from instance to instance. Sometimes she existed. Other times she did not. He missed her when she was not present but, in some ways, it made his task easier. Some of the other _variables_ were more difficult for him to adapt to. Samuel for one. Sometimes he was there but most times not. Sometimes he'd never existed, other times he had died minutes after being born, as had happened in Jackson's original reality. A few times he lived with his horrible condition and they coped. In a very few cases Samuel was a normal, happy, healthy boy. Those broke Jackson's heart, especially when, as seemed increasingly inevitable, he failed to alter fate.

Now the last crucial bit of intelligence he needed in order to plot his course was to discover the state of the relationship between the two principles. This too had been all over the map. Sometimes a tranquil, almost perfect love story, at others an emotionally violent roller coaster, similar to his own experience. Oddly, he had found that no matter the state of the relationship, together or apart, the one constant across all realities? A love so deep and firmly rooted that they were helpless to ignore it's pull. He assumed that to be one of the few _constants_ but hard experience had also taught him the folly of assumptions. In his bizarre circumstance, every single detail remained in play. So he began to think about a way to find out how things stood between Jackson and April. This was always a challenge.

  
  


The first step would be to observe them interacting. But that would be tricky as he couldn't just stroll into the hospital and invite them both to lunch. Or could he? It would require utilizing some of the skills he had picked up along the way but he thought he might be able to pull it off.

 

“Doctor Bailey.” Chief Miranda Bailey turned toward the person calling her name.

“Doctor Avery. What can I do for you? Make it fast. I'm late to a meeting.”

“Ironically just what I wanted to talk to you about. I've been getting some bad pages to the ER lately and was hoping to meet with April to talk about it.”

Hmmm, Bailey thought, Doctor Avery looks much better without his glasses. And that beard is new too. It suits him. It suits him very well. “Well why do you need me? Talk to her about it.”

“Well, that's just it.” Jackson answered. “I'm not really sure where we stand right now.” That was telling the truth. “I was hoping you could ask her to meet with me, perhaps over lunch in the cafeteria, so we could discuss it.” He smiled hopefully.

Bailey's first inclination was to tell him to approach Kepner directly, regardless of whatever personal issues he had with her. Frankly she was surprised that Avery had any sort of relationship with April Kepner at all. But this new look of his, and that smile he was giving her, broke down her usually reliable defenses. “Alright. I'll see if she's available to meet you at lunch today.”

That smile got even brighter. “Great, Chief, and thanks. Just text me an invite to lunch with Kepner once its set.”

“Yes, yes, now is there anything else?”

“No maam.”

“Good.” Bailey turned to go but paused and looked over her shoulder. “Jackson, going with contacts was a good idea.”

He nodded and off she went.

  
  


He was gratified to see April appear in the cafeteria at 11:55. She bought a salad and grabbed an open table. He got a little worried when Arizona Robbins stopped by but the women just chatted briefly before Arizona went on her way.

Then, at twelve sharp, an obviously nervous and hesitant Jackson Avery arrived. He surveyed the cafeteria, spotted April, and gave her a little wave.

_He's waving to her?!? WTF?!?_ Jackson, sitting just outside the cafeteria, slouched down a bit more behind the newspaper he was holding, embarrassed for his alternative self. This was not a good start.

April was looking at him with an amused expression on her face. Finally, she gave him a little wave back. That seemed to unstick his wheels a little and he resumed his progress toward the table.

  
  


“Hi Jackson. You wanna grab some lunch before you sit down?” April asked him, smiling.

“Uh, no, that's okay. I'm going home in a couple of hours anyway so I'll wait. You know, hospital food.”

“Sure. That's the healthiest thing I've heard all morning.”

Better not mention pizza night, Jackson thought. He sat down opposite the petite trauma surgeon.

“So, Bailey said you wanted to discuss some bad pages?” she began.

Jackson looked bewildered. “Uh, I thought you had Bailey set up this lunch.” He nervously removed his glasses and wiped them on his lab coat.

“Me?” April answered in surprise. _Jackson, you really ought to consider contacts my friend_ , she thought. “Why would I ask for this lunch?”

“Well, eh...” Jackson stammered, “I wasn't sure. Maybe about me spending more time in the ER?”

Although his dark skin made it difficult to tell for sure, April thought her colleague might be blushing.

“Do you want to spend more time in the ER?” In April's experience, only Trauma surgeons actually enjoyed the ER. Other specialties avoided it like the plague. Consequently, she was happy any time she could enlist another surgeon to come down and man the Pit.

“I, uh.. um, I could do that. If you wanted me.” Jackson suddenly realized what he had said.

“I mean, uh, wanted me to. You know, wanted me to spend more time down there. The ER I mean. Work in the ER.”

Yep, no doubt about the blushing now, thought April. And the poor guy is going to rub his prescription right off his glasses lens too if he doesn't stop with the cleaning.

“Jackson, I'd love to have you spend more time in the ER. Especially during cold and flu season when we're paging you every five minutes anyway.”

“Okay, then I'm your man.” he answered, smiling shyly before again trying to desperately clarify. “I mean...”

“I know what you mean, Jackson.” April smiled at him sympathetically.

Jackson rubbed his glasses frantically.

  
  


Even without being able to hear the conversation, Jackson was able to glean enough information from the expressions and body language. There was no doubt. This was going to be the biggest challenge yet and his work was really cut out for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this working so far?


	3. The Face in the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Jackson to kick things off. First thing to do? Get to Jackson.  
> Unbeknownst to him, another series of events has begun.  
> "We can't boil every injury down to one single blow. What hurts us is cumulative. It happens over time. We absorb blow after blow, shock after shock, painful hit after hit. But even then, even if we know exactly how we got here, it doesn't mean we can fix it. We can't heal every wound and that's okay. I have to believe it's okay. I have to believe that even if something seems like it cannot be fixed, it doesn't mean it's broken.” — April Kepner
> 
> "Until it is." — April Kepner

Jackson never spotted the motorcycle following his yellow Toyota Matrix home that afternoon. He pulled into his parking spot in the carport, stopped by to check for mail, which hadn't come yet, then trudged up the stairs to his apartment.

Even if he had looked out the window of his apartment, and with the dismal view it offered, why would he, it's doubtful he would have noted the Harley parked on the street, or its owner returning to it after a brief but thorough casing of the apartment building.

  
  


He put on his helmet and surveyed the street. _Jesus, why does he live in this neighborhood? And a Matrix? Really? A yellow Matrix. Nothing against Toyota but the Matrix has to be the most boring car on the market. The dude is a surgeon. Why is he this hard up?_ Then a thought occurred to him..maybe he had been married and was now on the hook for a big alimony and child support payment? Could be. But he didn't think April was his ex. Their lunch meeting didn't fit that scenario at all. Had he married someone else? Was Lexie alive in this instance? Was Sloan? Perhaps he had married Stephanie? He had yet to encounter that set of variables. But he had noticed that in each succeeding instance, the variations from his reality had been increasing. It induced some trepidation in him. Was he at some point going to find himself in an instance so far removed from his own that it was impossible to change what he had to? Was there some point, maybe soon, where his reality would be _locked_ in? The prospect terrified him. The consequences were too severe. No, he would continue trying through all eternity if he had to. At least as long as he was given the chance.

_A Matrix. A fucking yellow Matrix._

Jackson gave the Dyna some throttle and sped off in search of a hardware store. He needed a few supplies. The next step always involved a lot of risk. But he learned how to mitigate much of it.

After procuring what he needed, he remounted his bike and went off in search of food and free wifi. He had some time to kill before he took the next step. Time, he knew, would soon be in short supply. It began to rain. _Fuck!_

  
  


April checked her email as she walked toward the ER. She was going to be an aunt again. Her sister Alice was pregnant with her third. Hurray! But April's excitement was tempered by the thought that Alice was her youngest sibling, and each of the Kepner girls were well on their way to having their families. Each of them except April, of course.

Not only childless, April was also spouse less, with no hint of that changing, well beyond the age that she expected to be. Not to say that she hadn't come close once upon a time. She had been engaged to handsome paramedic Matthew Taylor, but for reasons she now had trouble remembering, she had called it off at the eleventh hour. Matthew had taken that pretty hard and disappeared. There had been no contact with him now for four years and he rarely surfaced in her consciousness anymore. But now he was. And he brought with him one of the main reasons she had felt she had to call it off. They had slept together a month before the wedding.

It had been important to April to remain a virgin until her wedding night; a matter of faith in fact. And Matthew actually was on the same tracks as her in this regard, yet another thing that made him perfect for her. But that fateful night, there had been drinking, and lots of fooling around that before they knew it had become intercourse. And while Matthew was okay with it, more than okay actually, April had been devastated to come so close only to fail. To her it was a betrayal of her promise to Jesus. Matthew's cavalier attitude towards it, and willingness to repeat the act before, during and after the upcoming nuptials, had not meshed well with her extreme guilt.

She also had some misgivings about the circumstances, particularly the alcohol, that contributed to the breakdown of her resistance. To his credit, he did not try to pressure her to continue to have sex but his making it clear that he was willing did not sit well with her.

The month before a wedding is always stressful anyway and poor April now had her relationship with Jesus to worry about. It was just too much. She tried to break it to him gently but there was no getting around devastating him. And so it had.

And April thought she should be devastated too. But, oddly, she wasn't. Instead, she felt something like relief. More guilt certainly, but also relief. Eventually she came to believe that somehow it was all God's plan, ironic though it appeared to be. Had God used sex to wake her up to the fact that Matthew was not, in fact, who she was meant to be with? The Lord does work in mysterious ways, she concluded.

A year later, she gave in to temptation and had sex with her then boyfriend when it looked like things were going to get serious with him. It hadn't been too hard to rationalize that maybe God was signaling again. When that fizzled out she decided that, if God did want to send her a message, it was unlikely he would send it to her vagina via some guys penis. That channel of, uh, communication had been closed ever since. In fact, after two years, April thought she might now re qualify as a virgin.

April's walk down memory lane ended abruptly when her pager buzzed insistently. Reading it, she quickened her pace. It had read **LAND/MUDSLIDE. MAJOR CASUALTIES.** That was a new one, even for her. Maybe it was a good thing she didn't have a husband or child waiting at home. This was going to make for a late one.

  
  


Jackson's pants were drenched by the time he returned to the apartment. He had received many curious looks from other drivers as he sat astride his motorcycle at the lights, in a downpour. But he really didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. He was glad that he had picked up a poncho at the hardware store along with his other purchases. All in all his upper half was fairly dry. Those pants though.

He found a place to park the bike in the building's parking lot. It didn't look like the kind of place that policed the parking too stringently so he wasn't too worried. Entering the lobby, he double-checked the mailboxes and made his way upstairs.

After verifying that lights were still on in Jackson's apartment, he climbed the stairs and began unscrewing the bulbs that illuminated the catwalk leading to it. Satisfied that the lighting outside was sufficiently dimmed, he took a deep breath and knocked.

After a moment, he heard footsteps approaching the other side of the door. “Who is it?” he heard a familiar voice inquire.

“Maintenance. Your neighbor reported a roof leak and Mr Clooney sent me to check your apartment too.” Jackson concentrated on making his voice deeper than normal.

“Really? I haven't seen anything.”

“Sir, you might not know what to look for. But if you don't care that your ceiling might fall in later, or that you might get mold, I'll just tell Mr Clooney you wouldn't let me in.”

“Okay, okay, just a second.”

Jackson heard the deadbolt being slid back and the saw doorknob start to turn. He threw himself against the door.

  
  


Jackson, caught completely unawares, was thrown backwards off his feet. His head missed the edge of the cabinet by inches. He rolled over and made it to his hands and knees before he felt cold metal pressed against the back of his neck.

“Stay calm, don't do anything stupid, and I may not have to blow your brains out.” said an oddly recognizable voice.

  
  


Jackson blinked hard against the glare of the kitchen light when the hood was pulled from his head. Duct taped to his own kitchen chair, a bandana tied across his mouth, he wondered if he would live to see the morning. He tested his bonds but quit when it brought a stern warning.

“Uh uh uh, none of that. If you play nice and cooperate, I promise I will not hurt you.” said a voice behind him. “If not, then things will go very badly for you. Resistance is futile. Now, nod if you intend to cooperate.”

Jackson nodded vigorously.

“Okay. If you promise to do what you're told, keep your eyes forward until told otherwise, and not to shout or make a commotion, then I'll remove the bandana. If you break that promise though, not only will you get hurt, everything goes back on. Now, do you promise?”

Jackson nodded again. That voice, though.

“Okay,” the voice said as he pulled the bandana from between Jackson's lips. “remember, resistance is futile.”

“Resistance is futile?” Jackson repeated hoarsely, his mouth dry. “Really? I've been home invaded by a Trekkie.”

“This is no time to be a smartass, Avery.” If he had a dollar for all the times he had said that to himself... Hmm, would this time count? 

“You know my name? Look, you've made a big mistake. I have no money and nothing valuable really. You've gone to a lot of trouble for next to nothing.”

“You're a surgeon for Christsakes! You're Jackson frickin Avery!”

“Yeah, I'm a doctor. You know what that means? It means I'm still paying my student loans.”

“Bullshit! You're an Avery.” 

“You keep saying that like it should mean something.” Jackson protested.

“You telling me it doesn't?” the voice behind him sounded incredulous. 

“It means you picked the wrong guy to rob.”

“What about the Foundation?”

“What _Foundation_?”

“The Harper Avery Foundation.”

“The what?” Jackson thought for a moment. “Wait, are you talking about the Harvey Amory Foundation? The one who gives out the Harvey Amory Award?”

Suddenly Jackson found himself face to face with a carbon copy of himself. “Are you telling me there's no Harper Avery Foundation?”

For a long moment Jackson couldn't breath. Then he finally recovered enough to answer.

“Harper Avery was my grandfather. He repaired cars until he died in 1985, I think. I don't even remember him. The only foundation he ever had was under his house in Tacoma. But that was sold after he died.”

Carbon Copy Jackson slumped into one of the other chairs.

“Now, who the hell are you?” Jackson asked calmly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greys 14X10, "Personal Jesus" featured a tour de force April performance by Sarah Drew. I thought it was the one of the best episodes of Grey's ever.  
> And it totally changed the course of this story.  
> I will try to make this story live up to it.  
> It may well be beyond my abilities.  
> But I gotta try.


	4. Boulders Begin to Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second Jackson Avery is not the only thing impacting Seattle. A whopper of a storm comes in, swamping the city and Grey Sloan's ER to the point where the All Hands On Deck call goes out. Which Jackson will answer? Meanwhile, April's brutally rough day continues to get even worse. But she's got to catch a break some time. Doesn't she?
> 
> What's the matter is that you keep holding me like this delicate flower that's gonna break every time you look at me. That is what is the matter. -April Kepner
> 
> What's the matter is that there's no one holding me so I don't break. That is what is the matter. -April Kepner

“Sasha, the wound on your neck isn’t too serious but I’m really worried about this arm. And both wounds were just full of muck and debris. We are going to monitor you carefully for signs of infection and start you on antibiotic prophylaxis.”

“Thank you, Doctor Kepner.” Replied the police officer. She saw a group of firefighters walking by the treatment room. “ Tilden, everyone accounted for?”

“Everyone except Lauenstein, Phil G., and Brian.” He answered. Seeing the look on her face he hastily added, “Brian will be fine, Sasha. He’s probably just giving himself a mud facial for the wedding.”

“Yeah, right. Proud of you for knowing what a mud facial is, Tilden.”

He laughed and nodded and continued down the hall.

“Brian is my fiancé.” Sasha explained to April.

“A firefighter? Nice!” April replied with a smile.

“Not today, unfortunately.” The officer replied.

April’s smile faltered.

  


A short time later, a group of mud-caked firefighters arrived bearing bad news. The bodies of Douglas Lauenstein and Phil Graham had been recovered from the debris. They had refused to give up their efforts to rescue a civilian, even as a wall of mud had descended on them.

  


Finally, there was good news to report. Brian, Sasha’s fiancé, had been found alive and was on his way to the hospital. But April feared it would be too late. Sasha’s wounds were discoloring and the lab tests April ordered revealed necrotizing fasciitis, flesh-eating bacteria. She began to spike a fever as well.

  


Just when April wondered if things could get worse, they did. Yet another firefighter had been dug out of the mud and delivered to the ER. Though conscious, Lenny Shulte was struggling to breath and his vital signs deteriorating.

“Decreased breath sounds and I hear a leak. He needs a chest tube stat.” April called. She leaned over so he could see her face. “Lenny, we need to insert a tube in your chest to help you breath. I’m not going to lie, it’s going to hurt like hell. Is there anyone we can call for you?”

“My wife. Please call my wife.” He answered with difficulty.

One of the nearby firefighters responded, “On it.”

Hunt arrived and immediately began clearing the room. “Alright guys, you gotta go. We’ll take care of him. I promise.”

April marked the spot, made the necessary incision and inserted the tube. Jo Wilson recoiled as the tube sprayed fecal matter all over the front of her scrubs.

“Damn it!” cried Owen.

“Did I miscount?” April asked aloud.

“No, it’s a good spot. His colon must have been pushed up into his chest cavity. It happens with crush injuries. Let’s get him to an OR.”

  


April shook her head in dismay. “Owen, his chest cavity is fully contaminated.”

“God damn it! Let's bisect the bowel and try to clean him out.” he answered.

April looked at him. He knew what she was saying without her saying it.

“I know. I know. But we can't give up. These first responders are good guys. The paramedics, the cops, and the firefighters, they're good guys.” he said. “And they've already lost so much today.”

But despite their efforts, Lenny began to have arrhythmias and went into PEA. Owen began chest compressions but when April called “Twenty minutes. Owen, he's been down for twenty minutes.”

Hunt continued to compress for another few seconds then finally gave up. “Time of death ...”

April shook her head. Matthew had been... was, a first responder. This was so unfair.

  


By the time Brian got to the hospital, Sasha was in a coma. Her organs had begun to shut down and there was nothing further they could do for her. She died without ever seeing her fiancé reach her bedside.

April turned away. How could this happen? It wasn't the first time in her life she had asked the question. And it definitely wouldn't be the last.

Outside, the storm raged on.

  


“Really? You don’t know who I am?” In spite of impulsively revealing himself much earlier than he had planned, the other Jackson was remarkably calm.

“I know who you look like but you obviously are not me so…”

Jackson paused before replying. That was actually a pretty rational response. He had experienced much worse.

“I hate to blow your mind but that’s actually not true. I am you. And you are me. Right down to the cellular level.”

“Uh huh. You must be a me from an alternate dimension.”

Jackson’s jaw dropped. “That’s… that’s exactly right.” He replied, looking at his counterpart in shocked surprise.

“ _A Wrinkle In Time_.”

“Uh, what?”

“ _A Wrinkle In Time_. I saw the trailer on TV. It’s coming out in March. That’s why I’m dreaming this.”

“Dreaming? What? No.” Jackson protested, “You’re not dreaming. This is for real.”

“Right. Any second now, my alarm is going to go off and you, my handsome friend, are going to disappear.”

At that moment, the pager on the counter began to buzz insistently. Startled, both Jacksons jumped in their seats, then stared at the device.

“That’s odd.” Bound to his chair Jackson shifted his gaze back and forth between the other Jackson and the pager. “You are still here. That should have made you disappear.”

Jackson leaped to his feet and picked up the pager. “Are you on call?”

“That should have woken me up. You shouldn’t be here anymore.”

“Are you on call?” Jackson was insistent.

“No. But if there’s something… Wait! You’re real. You’re really here.” His voice was now rising to heights not seen since Jackson had left thirteen behind.

Jackson pulled the bandana from his pocket and moved behind the man duct taped to his kitchen chair. “Where are the car keys?” It wouldn’t do to try the Harley in this storm. Involuntarily, Jackson looked toward the set of hooks just inside the door. Jackson smiled. _April would appreciate that little touch._

He slid the bandana across the man’s mouth, being careful not to block his nostrils. Killing him would be most counterproductive. “Sorry to have to leave you like this but I can’t have you going off and doing something crazy until I’ve had a chance to explain this to you.” Jackson’s eyes clearly communicated that he felt the crazy had already begun.

Jackson gently lowered the chair onto it’s back. “There, hopefully that is a little more comfortable. Try to get some sleep. I’ll come back as soon as I am able. Please don’t try to get loose. You’ll likely only hurt yourself and besides, I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

The other Jackson looked up from the floor, his eyes conveying a mixture of fear, disbelief, and anger.

But Jackson had no more time to worry about that. The page had been short and simple. **Code RED. All Hands On Deck**. For Jackson that meant an opportunity… an opportunity to get up close and personal with April. He wouldn't miss it for the world.

  


At Grey Sloan, things had gone from bad to worse. And for April, an already heartrending night had become positively brutal.

Shortly after Lenny’s wife had arrived with police escort to claim his body, April had returned to the chaotic ER to take her next patient. Elyse Cruse arrived very pregnant and very much in distress, thanks to a flash flood that had swept her car off the highway and into a tree.

“Please save my baby. Please save my baby.” She was pleading to the nurse hooking her up to the monitor.

April pulled up her chart. _God_ , she prayed silently, _I need a win here pretty badly. Please let this be one._ “Elyse, I’m Doctor Kepner. We’re going to take good care of you and your baby.”

“Just save my baby. Please. I don’t care about me.”

“How about we save both of you?” April replied. “Now tell me what you’re feeling.”

After examining her, April told Leah Murphy to page Peds. “Elyse, we’re calling our Pediatric specialist in to check you and your baby out. Has anyone called your husband?”

“I don’t..” Elyse winced in pain, “I don’t think so.”

“Well we’ll take care of that then.” April met Murphy outside the curtain. “Murphy, call the husband and have him get here as soon as possible.”

“Whatcha got?” Alex demanded as he arrived.

“MVC., thirty seven weeks pregnant, abdominal bruising and second degree burns on one arm. She's complaining of intense pain.” April fed him the bullet as they reentered through the screen.

“She's bleeding.” Alex declared. The stain under the woman's pelvis was spreading rapidly. He took a quick look. “Prolapsed cord, I think. Prep an OR” he called to Leah as she reappeared.

He reached under the woman's gown. “Elyse, I'm Doctor Karev. I'm going to take care of your baby. You have a prolapsed umbilical cord. I'm going to try and push it back in to your uterus. It is going to hurt. Then we are going to take you to surgery. The good news is, you are going to have a baby today.”

Elyse Cruse nodded, her face a mask of fear and pain.

  


Karev was able to deliver a beautiful, healthy baby girl, after which April repaired the damage and stopped the woman's bleeding. Things looked good when Elyse Cruse was wheeled to recovery. Her husband met her there.

April came in to brief him on the surgery and answer any questions he might have. She found Vince Cruse talking to his unconscious wife, telling her she was strong. And that he needed her to come back to him.

Alex arrived shortly thereafter, bearing their newborn daughter. April thought the look on Vince's face as he was handed his daughter would break her heart.

Karev got a page and quickly departed, after telling Vince his daughter was perfectly healthy. April, needing an emotional recharge, stayed with the Cruse family. Vince began telling her the story of their lives together. He told her how they met in a political science class when they were paired up by their professor. They dated in college, but then Elyse's dad died, so she left school. They met again about three years ago when they both moved from Wisconsin to Seattle and joined the same bowling league.

Theirs was the kind of story April cherished. It told her they were meant to be. It was love overcoming obscene odds, no doubt with an assist from the Man, or Woman, Upstairs. If ever she needed evidence of God's love for his children, it was tonight.

Her pager called her away but she promised she would return when she was able and that Elyse would probably regain consciousness soon.

  


Jackson was making his way past the treatment room when he heard a doctor calling for a crash cart. He stopped and looked through the door where he saw a doctor he didn't know dealing with an emergent situation. The patient he had been treating, Jackson recognized the burn tray, had suddenly begun bleeding from her surgical sutures and quickly crashed. Something about the scene looked so familiar. He had seen it before in some instance, he was sure of it. Then he heard April's cry of anguish. Turning he looked down the hall and saw her sprinting toward the room. And then it clicked. That was Elyse, the young woman with the bowling team lovestory. They had lost her long ago in his own time and it had devastated April.

Before he knew it he was beside the bed, pushing the plastics doc out of the way and grabbing the paddles even before the nurse announced “She's in v-fib.”

“Charge to two hundred.” he called. “Clear.” Elyse Cruses body jumped with the shock but the monitor line remained flat. “Give me three hundred!” He heard the familiar whine. “Clear!” Another shock and another failure to bring her back out.

Now April was on the other side of the bed and grabbing the paddles from him. “I've got her. Three sixty! Clear!” Flat line across the monitor. “No No No, Come on Elyse!”

“Starting compressions.” called Jackson. “Initiate ACLS. Get me an intubation tray!”

“Three Sixty again!” cried April. “Clear!”

Jackson stepped back. This was against protocol but he wasn't going to say anything about that.

But when the fourth attempt failed, he knew they had lost again.

“Again!” cried April, almost hysterically.

“April,” he said softly.

“Clear!”

He withdrew.

She delivered the shock. The monitor told the same story as before.

“Charge.” April whispered.

Jackson reached out and touched her hand. She looked up at him with wide grief stricken eyes.

“April, we lost her.”

April could only shake her head as she backed away from the table. Then she dropped the paddles and fled. Jackson's eyes followed her. _That was one hellacious reunion_.

 

He found her. She had found a quiet corner to release her tears. Alone. He was supposed to be there. He should be there. He should be holding her while she cries on his shoulder. That was his part. That was his purpose. He remembered that clearly. No matter what kind of fight or disagreement or anger lay between them, he had promised himself to always be there for her at time like this. But he had broken that promise too. And now jumped from reality to reality trying to correct it. Because that's where he belongs...., with her and he would fight to make it back there.

She didn't hear his approach until he cleared his throat. He hadn't wanted to frighten her after all.

“Oh,” she pretended to rearrange the pillows on a nearby gurney, “Doctor Avery, thank you for the help in there. That was a tough one to take.”

“I remember.” he said automatically. She looks so broken, he thought.

April looked at him with eyes that still brimmed with tears. “What?”

Oops. “I mean I remember the look on your face. I could see it hurt.”

She looked away. “I don't know why it's hitting me so hard. I've been losing people all day. It's been brutal. But this one ...” A single tear streaked down her cheek. Jackson knew it wouldn't take much to release the torrent she was trying desperately to hold back.

Jackson nodded. He wasn't sure what he could say to her.

Then she surprised him. “Do you think everyone has a special soulmate out there that they are meant to be with? One person to make their lives complete?”

Once upon a time and place he had answered that question with a firm _No, that would be such a stupid system_. This time he answered “Yes, yes I do.”

“You know, they first met in college in Wisconsin, Elyse and her husband. Then they were split apart and each ended up coming to Seattle. Then a few years ago they met when they both joined the same bowling league. How weird is that?”

“That people join bowling leagues?”

“You're making jokes? You think this is funny?”

Note to self, timing is everything. “I'm sorry, no, I was just trying to sort of lighten the mood a little. It was a mistake. I apologize.”

April shook her head. “Now I've got to go tell him she's dead. Oh God, how can I do that?”

“I'll do it, if you want?” he offered.

“Why would you? She was my patient. You don't know them. You'd probably make some joke to...” April made airquotes, “lighten the mood.”

“I wouldn't ...” Jackson began.

“No, I'll do it. I can do it. I just need a minute.”

Jackson watched her make the effort to compose herself. She noticed him watching her and gave him an annoyed look. “Doctor Avery, don't you have some patients to treat somewhere?” Then she spun on her heel and walked toward the elevators. She would go to the nursery and tell Vince that Elyse would not be coming home.

Jackson, meanwhile headed off in the other direction. The storm was still raging, the ER was still packed, and the hospital needed him. Besides, his brief observation of the plastics guy had already convinced Jackson he was a hack. Grey Sloan needed some of it's second namesakes skill tonight and Jackson was just the guy to bring it.

He did hope though that his next interaction with April would be more successful than that last. It could hardly be worse, he admitted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my opinion, April's crisis began long before 14x10.
> 
> Much thanks to Fazi0 for gently pointing out a sloppy mistake.
> 
> And thanks to all for reading and especially, commenting.


	5. Dr. Avery, Your Bus Is Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A huge storm continues to batter Seattle and brings about such destruction that the call goes out for all doctors to report. For Jackson, this is an opportunity too good to pass up.  
> But he's forced to relive some of April's toughest times and is even more powerless to help her than in his original time and place.  
> And will a choice he makes prove so costly as to make his mission a failure practically before it's begun?

He knew better. It had happened time and again. Whenever he tried to directly intervene and change something himself, it failed miserably. It was one of the first things he had learned. It had taken him two dozen _occurrences_ to figure it out too. And it was still the single most difficult mistake to avoid. The temptation was just so great; too much to resist at times.

Even though the ER had finally treated all the mudslide casualties, the violent storm was creating havoc all through Seattle and Grey Sloan was bearing the brunt of the survival effort. MVCs, exposure, falling trees, flash floods, all were claiming victims at an alarming rate. The doctors of Grey Sloan, led by Team Trauma, as April and her mentor Owen Hunt often referred to themselves, worked feverishly to triage and treat the influx.

The level of activity worked in Jackson's favor as no one had time to question why he had suddenly switched to contacts or, much more difficult to explain, how he had managed to grow a beard in the ten hours since he'd ended his shift that afternoon.

He was, however, just moments away from a slip up that might have drawn some unwanted attention of that sort. But as fate, at least this version of it, would have it, the evidence would be wiped away in a most tragic fashion.

Jackson glanced up from the patient he was treating. April was in the next trauma bay, trying to quell the seizures being experienced by her patient. “Where's neuro?” he yelled to a nearby nurse.

April looked up. Seeing he was stitching a laceration on his patient's leg she quickly put two and two together. “I'll frickin call neuro when I need to. Take care of your own patient and I'll take care of mine.” she snapped at him.

Chastised, Jackson redirected his concentration to his suturing. “O for two.” he muttered to himself.

A moment later the lights flickered.

Jackson looked around again. No one else seemed to pay it too much attention. But Jackson was uneasy. He remembered a night like this, albeit much earlier in his instance, when Grey Sloan suffered a disastrous power outage. Amid the carnage however, Jackson had learned that the newly engaged April had still loved him, would still choose him. Of course obtaining that knowledge had very nearly cost him his life. Later, though, it had played a part in his eventually standing up at her wedding and proclaiming his love for her as well. And, well, the rest was history. At least his history. Of course he had many histories now, didn't he?

Again the lights flickered. Jackson saw Webber enter the ER, trailed by a guy who Jackson took to be a Facilities guy. They were too far away to hear what they were saying but Richard gestured around the room while the other man was nodding vigorously.

Then everything did more than flicker. Lights and sounds gave way to darkness and silence for a long moment. It seemed everyone was holding their breath. Then everything came back on and there was scattered cheering.

Richard barked something at the guy, who turned and walked briskly out of the ER.

 _Oh man, was this really going down?_ Jackson remembered. The power failure; the backups failure; Webber electrocuted and barely surviving; Intern Heather discovering him before being electrocuted herself and dying. Meanwhile Jackson had been working with Hunt to get people out of the burning bus. And almost dying himself saving that child from the back before the bus exploded. Was this happening now, here, in this instance?

Jackson saw Webber move to a trauma bay to assist. That was a good sign. Maybe it's already happened here too. Maybe this is just a normal thing that happens during big storms. Then Heather Brooks appeared in the adjoining trauma bay. “Doctor Shepard will be here in a minute. She's just out of surgery.” she told April.

_Oh crap. If she's still alive then it either didn't happen or it happened differently. Crap!_

“Doctor Avery, partial airway obstruction in Trauma two.” called an ER nurse from across the room.

“On my way.” he answered. “Murphy, finish this up for me please.” Leah Murphy nodded.

But as soon as Jackson arrived at the patient's bedside, the lights went out and stayed out.

After a minute or so passed it became apparent that the electricity was not going to come back on and nurses and doctors began scrambling to find any lights they could. Flashlights appeared as did flashlight apps on cellphones.

Webber stepped to the the middle of the ER and asked for everyone's attention. “Alright, people, it looks like we've got a problem with the backup generators again. Until that gets fixed, do your best to work around the problem.”

Then Richard left the ER. Now Jackson was in a real quandary. Was Webber on his way to be electrocuted or had that already happened and this was just a routine visit to make sure his people were working on the power? If the former, could Jackson possibly keep his history from being repeated here? Could he prevent Webber's electrocution and therefore save Heather Brooks life. If he did, what would happen to the little girl, Evie? Who would pull her from the burning bus in time?

He racked his brain for ideas. But he came up short. Finally, he decided he needed to take a chance.

Leah Murphy rejoined him as he finished intubating his patient. “Just what we needed tonight, another blackout, huh?” he said to her as casually as he could. She didn't react. Damn it. “Remember that last one? Crazy, huh?”

“Must have been before my time, Doctor Avery.”

“Oh, yeah, you're right. I think it was a year or two before you got here.” Oh crap. So this was it. And Webber was probably on his way right now to get himself electrocuted. Crap.

“Murphy, lets push 50 ccs of cortical steroid to reduce the swelling then get her up to radiology for some film of her throat.”

“If they have power. Otherwise, no imaging.”

“Oh, right. Well push the steroid and go see if they are up or not.”

Murphy nodded and went to find the meds. Meanwhile, Jackson had decided to give in to temptation just this one more time. He thought he might have figured out a way to save Richard and Heather without sacrificing Evie.

  


“Hunt, can I have a word?”

“Pretty busy, Avery.”

“It's important.”

“Okay, one minute.” Hunt finished with the chest tube he was inserting into his patient. He stepped outside the curtain where Jackson impatiently waited.

“What's up?” he asked.

Jackson took a deep breath. “This is going to sound pretty crazy but it's important that you just listen. Any minute now a bus is going to crash just outside the ER entrance. You are going to go out there to get the passengers out. There will be a woman trapped inside the bus. You'll eventually free her and get her out but she'll tell you her daughter is missing. The daughter's name is Evie. Once you've got the mother out go to the back of the bus. You'll see a kid's shoe. If you bend down you'll see the girl. She's scared and doesn't want to come to you but you've got to find a way to get her out. You won't have much time before the bus explodes so hurry.”

Hunt's expression went from impatient, through incredulous, to angry. “Avery, I've got a patient with a punctured lung and other possible internal injuries and you called me out here for this, some kind of weird joke or prank or something.”

“It's no joke or prank.” Jackson insisted.

“Doctor Avery...”

“Please, I'll explain later.” I'll try to, Jackson thought, though I don't know how I'll do it.

Hunt shook his head angrily and returned to his patient. He would deal with Avery later. And it wouldn't be pleasant.

Jackson turned and headed off to find Richard.

“Avery!” called April, but he ignored her, continuing out of the ER. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she said angrily as she tried to stem the flow of blood from her patient's wounds.

Jo Wilson looked at her in surprise. She'd never heard April Kepner swear like that.

  


Jackson studying the building diagram on the wall. It didn't tell him where the generator room was. But he figured that if it was flooding it must be down in the hospital basement somewhere. So, his way lit only by the infrequent and dim emergency lights, he made his way down the stairwell to the bottom floor. He worried for a moment that his badge would not unlock the door off the stairs but it clicked to unlock. Thankfully, door locks had been included in the battery plan. Most everything else, including anything the patient's needed, depending on the generators.

Jackson made his way down the long hallway that ran the length of the hospital's ground floor. He didn't see another soul. Halfway down the hall he passed by the morgue and noted the lights on inside. So at least some of the generators are operating, he thought. Ironic that the patients they had lost recently had power while those they were trying to keep from coming down here didn't.

A little further down he began to hear a low rumble that told him that he was nearing his goal. A few more steps and he stood before a door clearly marked “Generator Room” above a second sign with the warning “DANGER: High voltage. Risk of Shock or Death”

His badge opened this door as well. That's not very smart security, he thought. He stepped inside and noted the bank of generators on the right half of the room were putting out a deafening racket. So parts of the hospital must have power. Good to know. Maybe some power could be rerouted to the ER.

Jackson clicked on the flashlight he had brought from the ER and swept the beam through the dark half of the room. No sign of Richard. Maybe he had arrived in time. He moved carefully to his left and past the first row of silent generators. As his flashlight beam flicked across this space his eye was drawn to a brief flash of white. He brought the beam to bear and there he was. Richard Webber was just beyond the front row of generators and appeared to be unconscious where he lay on the floor.

Beyond him lay the facilities guy Jackson had seen in the ER with Webber. Jackson resisted the urge to run straight to Webber. Instead he trained his beam on the floor between Richard and himself. He saw several inches of water gathered there, with several wires hanging down into it.

Crap! Well, at least I will save Heather and possibly Richard will have a better time of it without having to lay here so long.

Jackson got out his cellphone and dialed the ER. Leah Murphy answered on the third ring.

“Murphy, this is Doctor Avery. I need gurneys down in the basement generator room stat. I've got two men down, probable electrocution. And alert Facilities too.”

“Doctor Avery, gonna be a few minutes. We just had a bus overturn and catch fire right outside the ER. All the gurneys are out there and ..”

Jackson heard a loud noise in the background and the call dropped. _Fuck!_

  


“Kepner, can I have a minute please?”

“Owen, yes, of course.”

“Is Avery off his rocker?”

“I think he might be. He's been acting very strangely all day. Definitely not himself. Well, I can't really say that since I don't really know what his normal is.” April said, scratching her forehead.

“Well I can say definitively that what he told me five minutes ago is not normal for any sane person.” Hunt shook his head emphatically.

“Really, what did he say?”

“He said..” Owen Hunt never finished the sentence. A loud screeching sound drew their attention out toward the street where a bus careened over several parked cars before coming to rest on it's side and bursting into flames.

“Oh shit!” April heard Owen mutter, and then they were running, along with several other staff, out the door and toward the bus.

  


How did Avery know, thought Hunt as he reached the bus. Climbing inside, he found the woman pinned, just as Jackson had said he would. He shook his head. As he worked to free the woman, she told him her daughter was missing. Her daughter... “Evie” he said just ahead of her. She was too much in shock to register his beating her to it. Owen thought he might soon be joining her there. Or maybe the psych ward. “I'll find her.” he reassured the woman. I know right where to look, he told himself.

With the help of an orderly, the woman was lifted to safety. “Doctor Hunt, smell that gas? This bus is gonna blow.” the man said to him.

“Yeah, take her in and I'll be right behind you.” he answered. But instead of running toward the ER, he went to the back of the bus. That's when he saw the small shoe and knew that Avery had been right about everything. On his hands and knees in the puddle of fuel, Hunt crawled as far as he could and then turned on his flashlight. The beam found the little girl right where Avery had said it would.

“Evie, my name is Owen. Your mommy sent me to find you, honey. Come on, lets go find her.”

But the little girl didn't budge. Probably in shock, terrified, taught not to speak to strangers, or all three, he thought. He knew he was running out of time. “Evie, I'm a doctor. See my stethoscope? It's what doctors use to listen to hearts. You want to try it? It's really fun. Let's go find your mommy and listen to her heart.”

But Evie still wouldn't respond.

Desperate now, Hunt began to wriggle forward into the tight space. He reached forward, stretched and finally was able to touch the little girl's ankle. That seemed to rouse her from her stasis and she leaned toward him and reached out her arms. He caught hold of her and began to wriggle back out.

But Owen Hunt was a big man, and the space he was in was very tight, and lined with sharp jagged metal. And when he felt himself caught on one of those sharp jagged edges he knew he would not be able to extricate himself in time. So he did the only thing he could do. With a heroic push forward, ignoring the pain of the metal tearing deeper into his body, he cleared the opening. Turning, he took Evie in his arms and pushed her through the opening to the outside of the bus. “Run” he told her.

And little Evie, one shoe on and one shoe off, turned and ran. She took one look back over her shoulder but the man stuck in the back of the bus called “Don't look back, honey.” And so she turned and ran another few steps before being knocked off her feet by the explosion.

  


The woman on the barstool took a gulp of the amber liquid in her glass. She grimaced at the burning sensation the whiskey gave her going down. But what was a little more pain? Fifteen hours ago she had reported for her shift at the hospital, expecting a day like any other. Instead it had been a brutal succession failure after failure and loss after loss.

Firefighters, police officers, a new mother, and worst of all, two of their own who now lay fighting for their lives across the street, one of them her friend, mentor, and the closest thing she had to a brother.

Where was the fairness? Where was the justice? How could God let this happen? These were questions she had been asking herself for some time now. Her pastor had told her it was normal to ask questions like this. But when pressed for an answer, he had mumbled something about God's unknowable plan and justice in heaven and April had left with the feeling that he didn't have any better answers than she did.

Her mother had always told her that prayer was a most powerful thing. Well she had been praying all day and nothing she had prayed for had turned out okay. So either her mother was wrong or God actually didn't like to be bothered by prayer. Maybe it was his golf day today or something.

Now April Kepner was numb. And it wasn't the whiskey. She just felt like every good thing had been drained out of her. She didn't believe in herself as a healer. She didn't believe in her relationship with God. Frankly, right then, she didn't believe in anything but pain. That she certainly believed in. She had seen it, felt it, bathed in it, all fucking day. Now she just wanted to forget. Everything.

“Rough day, huh?” said a voice beside her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky for me Jackson and April have a huge body of tragic experience to draw from and I've granted myself unlimited abilities to 'tweak' the circumstances to fit my narrative. Hope you are okay with that. :-)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and love to hear your comments, opinions, or even complaints.


	6. Strike Three?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson returns to Jackson and fills him in on the history of Japril in his reality even though he believes his mistakes that night may have doomed his purpose.  
> Speaking of mistakes, April, in her pain is looking for a little meaningless sex to take her mind off of the brutal realities of the day, and maybe thumb her nose a little at a God she is very angry with.
> 
> “Whatever happened to good old fashioned romance?” -April Kepner

He opened the door carefully and quietly. All the lights were off. He tried to remember. Had he turned them off before he left? He didn't think so. He didn't even know where the frickin light switch was. So if he didn't that meant ...

He took a tentative step forward and stopped when he heard a voice from the darkness in front of him.

“You know what? I could shoot you right now and be perfectly within the law.”

“True,” he replied, “but you'd still have a hell of a time explaining it.”

The darkness made no reply to that.

So Jackson continued with a little speculation. “I'm thinking that's why you didn't call the police already.”

“I picked up the phone a few times.” admitted the voice.

“But couldn't quite figure out what to tell them?”

“It did cross my mind that if we are as identical as you say, I might be getting myself invited to a lengthy stay at some secret government lab.”

“Secret government lab? Dude, you gotta take a break from the SciFi Channel.”

“Funny. The other thing that stopped me was finding your gun.”

“Quite a lethal piece of hardware, huh?”

“Literally. Hardware I mean. You were going to blow my brains out with a socket wrench?”

“Turns out Home Depot doesn't carry Glocks. Who knew? Besides, a half inch socket packs quite a punch.”

Suddenly a light came on. Jackson squinted while his eyes adjusted.

The other Jackson was sitting in a chair, unbound, with the wrench on the table in front of him.

“Can I come in and close the door now?” the Jackson at the threshold asked.

“So now you're asking permission? That's certainly an improvement.”

“My apologies. But really, how much good would it have done me to knock on your door and politely introduce myself to you.”

“Maybe it wouldn't have helped you but I might not have had to be terrorized and then duct taped to a chair for half the night.”

“Okay, so I'm sorry. But I hadn't intended on having to leave you like that.”

Jackson in the chair bristled at the reminder. “You had no right to answer MY page and impersonate me at MY hospital.”

Standing Jackson shrugged his shoulders. “You're right. I'm sorry about that too. But I thought...”

“You thought what? What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking it was an opportunity to learn what I needed to know.”

“Which is what?”

“How April is doing? Whether I got here in time or not.”

“April? April Kepner?” Standing Jackson immediately detected the change in sitting Jackson's expression. “What do you mean _got here in time_?”

Standing Jackson shook his head sadly. “It's a long story and I don't think it matters any more.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I think I screwed it up. I tried to do the right thing and instead I messed it up.”

  
  


April looked at the man next to her then returned her attention to her drink. Sure, why not? He meets the basic requirements; attractive; not relationship material by any means; unmarried and probably unconnected to another woman. He'd provide enough of a distraction to forget everything for a few hours. Unfortunate that he works with her at the hospital but his reputation as a loner might keep him from blabbing about it. Fuck it, she was past the point of caring anyway.

She drained the last of the whiskey in her glass and turned back to him. “Take me home.” It wasn't a request.

In spite of her numbness, she registered the doubt in his expression. Where is that coming from? Dude, you just hit the lotto. I noticed how you look at me. I know you want me. Now you get me, for a few hours anyway. And I'm going to fuck both our brains out, cause that's what I need right now.

But still he didn't respond. What was going on behind that pretty face of his? Was it because he knew she was offering a one and done, and he had some fantasy about some long term thing? Was it because he was religious and thought God wouldn't approve? Well, she could assure him that God didn't give a flying fuck. She was sure of that. Though part of her wished it wasn't so. She wanted God to care. If only so she could inflict a little pain back His way. Payback is a bitch.

Just when she was about to call it and tell him she'd find another dick to work out her anger on, he nodded and said “Okay.”

She didn't look at or acknowledge him again until they were getting into her car. As he folded himself into the passenger seat of the Miata, she asked, “Your place?”

“Not an option.” he answered.

Probably lives with his mommy, she thought harshly. Maybe I should ditch this guy and go find another. But she looked at him and noted again how handsome he was. Screw it. He better have some goddamned skills in bed.

She dropped the Miata into first and headed for her apartment. At least the rain had begun to taper off.

  
  


“Messed what up?”

“The whole situation. I think I might have made it impossible to fix it.”

“Fix what? What _situation_? Damn it! Quit talking in riddles. What does this have to do with April Kepner?”

Standing Jackson looked intently at the Jackson sitting in front of him. “You're curious. That's why you didn't call anyone.”

Sitting Jackson paused a moment before replying. “Yes. I 'll admit it. Of course I'm curious. Who wouldn't be if their doppelgänger suddenly appeared in their apartment claiming they came from another dimension and that they have some mysterious purpose? That and I had no earthly idea what I would have told them.”

Doppelgänger Jackson looked at him sadly. “Sad to say, that mysterious purpose has just been blown up so ...”

“What does it have to do with April?” interrupted Jackson.

The mirror image across from him looked at him intently. Could it really be true that in this instance they had no relationship?

“Have you ever been involved with her?”

“Outside of work, no.”

“Well this is a first. I wonder what that means.”

“So do I. What are you talking about? Were you... are you _involved_ with her, in your reality?”

“She is... was, my best friend, then my wife. Then, she wasn't, either I guess.”

For the next two hours Doppelgänger Jackson told his current self the story of April Kepner and Jackson Avery as he had lived it. He spared his twin no detail. And Jackson heard how that April Kepner had gone from best friend to giving her virginity to that Jackson, who found himself, to his own great surprise, loving her with all his heart.

He heard about the pregnancy scare, which had split them apart for a time. He heard about April's engagement to Matthew Taylor. This Jackson remembered the name and thought he remembered April almost marrying him in this reality too.

He was stunned to hear how that Jackson had stood up at her wedding to proclaim his love for her and ask her whether she loved him in return.

He watched the animation and emotion on his companion's familiar face as he described a marriage that he had thought would last forever. He heard about the things that they struggled with and how they had laid them to rest.

Then he learned of a child born with a terrible condition and lost and what devastation that had wrought.

He saw the anger and frustration that still lingered about April seeking the restoration of her faith in Jordan.

They were on the third round of beers by then. Nevermind that it was five in the morning and the sun would be coming back up in an hour or so.

The story continued, through the difficult times of the divorce.

“Wait, you say you loved her, right? And you had been through so much together. What did you do that made her want a divorce?”

Jackson paused for a moment. “She didn't want the divorce. I did. She fought against it but ...”

“But why? Why would you want the divorce?”

“Were you asleep a minute ago? Our baby died and she left. For a year. You have no idea what that was like. Even when she came back it was different. She had changed. Then she left again, even though I made it clear that would be the end of us.”

This Jackson shook his head. “Even so, how could you throw that away?”

“Look, you weren't there. You didn't have to live through that. I did.” That Jackson replied angrily. “And then to top it off she didn't tell me about the baby until long after the papers were signed.”

“The baby?” This Jackson was flabbergasted. “April got pregnant during the divorce?”

“Yeah. It was a pretty big shock to me too, once I finally found out.”

“Did that baby... did that baby have...?”

“No, that one was …, is, perfectly healthy.. But there was no shortage of drama around the pregnancy or birth.”

That Jackson described the conflict during the pregnancy and then the harrowing birth of Harriet.

“Jesus, that must have been a nightmare!”

“Anyone else, I don't think it ends as well. But April is a frickin force of nature.” Jackson admitted.

“I can believe that.”

“So after our daughter was born..”

“What's her name?” It boggled Jackson's mind to think there was a reality in which he and April Kepner were parents of a little girl.

“Harriet. Her name is Harriet.”

“Oh, like Tubman.”

Jackson chuckled. “Or, as April would say, _The Spy_. Anyway, after she was born, I talked April into moving in with me so I could help her.”

And Jackson heard how April and Jackson lived together, co-parenting their daughter. He heard how they hit a very rough patch at the hospital when April took a turn as interim Chief of General Surgery.

He interrupted. “Interesting. We never had any of that that I know of. April did step up as Interim Chief of General for awhile but that was because Meredith took a leave of absence to visit Cristina Yang in Europe.”

“So nothing happened when Minnick was brought in to replace Richard?”

“Whats a _Minnick_?”

“Never mind.”

“So, what happened next with you and April?”

“We had a surgery in Montana where we essentially invented a procedure to save a girl who's throat transplant went sideways.”

“Throat transplant? So you're an ENT too?”

Jackson nodded. “Double board certified ENT and Plastics. Mark Sloan was my mentor.”

“Sloan? Wow! Are you as good as he was?”

“I like to think so. I know I'm better than the dude you have now. He's a ...”

“Hack.” they said in unison.

“Anyway, Montana went really well.”

This Jackson interrupted again. “Why go to Montana though? Why not bring the patient to Seattle?”

He detected the uneasiness this question elicited from the other Jackson.

After a moment, that Jackson answered. “Honestly, it was because of my father?”

“Dad?”

That Jackson was startled. “I've never called him that, ever. I've called him lots of different things but never _dad.”_

“Why?”

“Because he left my mother and I when I was just a child. All because being an Avery was too much for him. I think being a husband and a father was too.”

This Jackson shook his head. “No, that's not possible. He was the best father... He was frickin Jack Pearson to us. He never left us. Not until the cancer took him away. And even then, he fought like hell to stay with us.”

Now the other Jackson was shaking his head too. “That's almost unbelievable. My whole live has been shaped by being abandoned like that. It's probably why I could never forgive April for going to Jordan. Crap! So he's dead?”

“Yes, seven years now. Inoperable brain cancer. A really aggressive one. Even Derek Shepard couldn't help him.”

“My mother must have been devastated.”

“MY mother, you mean. And she was already pretty far gone by then so I've never been sure how much registered.”

Jackson's head spun around. “What? What do you mean?”

“Early onset Alzheimer's. Hers started a few years before that and progressed very quickly.”

“So she's gone too.” Jackson couldn't believe it. His Catherine Avery seemed indestructible.

“She's gone but not dead, if that's what you mean. I've got her in a home not far from here.”

“Would it be okay to see her?”

“Maybe. But before we think about that, please finish the story.”

That had been a lot to take in. But Jackson was able to pick up the thread of his tale.

“So going to Montana gave me a chance to finally confront my deadbeat father. And I guess some things got resolved but the biggest thing, aside from the successful surgery, was that April and I spent a night together.”

The other Jackson's eyebrows arched.

Jackson continued, “Yes, I know, but it happened. It just seemed so natural. It wasn't until the next morning that I even thought about it, really, and realized that April was sure to take it to mean that I had changed my mind about sharing a life with her. But that wasn't it. All my old fears started to come roaring back. I was a mess.”

“Wow! So you slept with her, never considering until the next day that the woman who had left a guy at the alter for you, that had fought so hard against a divorce, would expect sex with you to mean something?” There was no mistaking the judgment in Jackson's tone.

“In my defense, I was pretty preoccupied with my father thing, surgery, and things going on back in Seattle.” Even as he pleaded his case he recognized how feeble that argument was, which just served to make him all the more defensive. “Besides, you have no right to judge me. I've had to deal with all this stuff while you, what, haven't even made friends with her yet. At least I put myself out there with her, for her.”

“Exactly my point. You had it all. Then you go and piss it away. And for what? Because she hurt your feelings?”

“Why the hell are you taking her side in this? Shouldn't you be on my side?” Suddenly Jackson's expression changed as it dawned on him. A smile slowly broke across his face. He knew. “That's it, isn't it? Does she know? Does she know you care for her? That you have feelings for her?”

“She doesn't know I exist.” this Jackson sadly replied.

“She does now.” that Jackson replied, his smile fading away.

  
  


She drove the little car much too fast for the flooded road conditions, but begrudgingly appreciated his not complaining or being a drama queen about it. In fact, he didn't say anything, nor even look at her, and she was happy about it. She only wanted one thing from him, and it wasn't something he could give her in the Miata, with its top up at least.

She pulled into her garage, turned off the engine, and exited the car. Without a glance in his direction she proceeded into her house. She heard him follow her. In the entrance way, she kicked off one of her heels. She paused, looking back at him. “Unless you want me to wear them while we ...”

“No,” he answered, “make yourself comfortable.” He, however, looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“I intend to.” she replied. Then she continued toward her bedroom, expecting him to follow. “Just to be clear, this is a one time thing. I'd appreciate it if you keep your mouth shut about it at work too. And speaking of mouths, no kissing, on the mouth at least. Got it?” By then she had reached her bedside and was surprised to turn and find out he hadn't followed her there.

She stepped back out of her bedroom and found him still standing in the hallway where she had left him. “What?” she demanded.

“April, I didn't come here to screw you.” he answered.

What the frickin fuck, her expression shouted.

“I came with you to make sure you're okay. I came with you to keep you from making a mistake you'd be sure to regret later.”

Her face was granite. “Get out.” she said quietly but forcefully.

“April, I know you and you don't want to do this.” he pleaded.

“Jackson, you don't know the first thing about me. Now since you don't want to fuck me, get the hell out of my house.”

  
  


“She wanted to have sex with you?” Jackson was incredulous.

“Yes. Well, no, not me specifically. In fact, you could say she wanted to have sex with you.”

“Me? Really?”

“Down boy. She just wanted to screw someone. She is so messed up right now. She only picked you because there is no emotional connection with you. It could have been anybody.”

“Oh, great, thanks. That's a relief.” replied Jackson facetiously.

“Come on, you know what I mean.”

That Jackson took another draw from his beer. This Jackson did the same. It's like looking in the fucking mirror, Jackson thought. Except for the glasses and the clean-shaven face.

Jackson looked carefully at his self from a different reality. “But you didn't, did you?”

“I told her I didn't come there to sleep with her.”

That brought palpable relief to the other Jackson's face. But when he looked up he could see something different in that Jackson's expression.

“Wait,” said this Jackson, “you told her you weren't there to have sex with her.”

“Right, and she told me to get the hell out.” Whatever it was in his expression, it had just gotten turned up a notch.

“And so you did..., right?”

“I was on my way out the door...,” Jackson slowly replied. That's when this Jackson finally hit on what he was seeing in his other self's expression; guilt. “but when I looked back at her she was doing that damn lip thing.”

 


	7. Follow Her Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new day brings new problems for April, including a brutal hit close to home. Having lost her faith in her divine wingMan, it's April Kepner against the universe and the universe is winning.  
> Meanwhile, the Jacksons (not the musical brothers) begin to try and sort out the reasons why April might be in danger. But is it already too late? Did the Jackson we know already gum up the works with his actions the previous night? And how will shy awkward Jackson react once he gets an inkling of what will be asked of him?
> 
> “Nobody has just one soul mate. That'd be such a dumb system.” -Jackson Avery

That look on her face. That was all it took to arrest Jackson's forward momentum. It told him everything. He knew that look. He had seen it before. He had seen it when they were told their son had OI type 2. He had seen it whenever he said the word _divorce_ in her presence. He had seen it when she told him that having being with him in Montana turn out to be nothing, had caused her pain.

And in spite of everything they had gone through and how far apart they had found themselves when everything went to shit in their reality, seeing April in pain like that was not something he could tolerate. He would do anything to give her relief from it, if only for a moment. Anything. Including something he knew was the wrong thing.

In one fluid motion he slammed the door behind him, covered the distance between them and picked her up. As her other self had done so often in their past together, April wrapped herself around him and allowed herself to be carried to her bed. Absent were the giggles she was famous for producing in their happier times. This was more reminiscent of the last time in their doomed marriage.

Neither said a word as clothes were torn off in a desperate frenzy to get into the act without further delay. The sex was rougher than it had usually been with her. She wanted none of the warmth and tenderness that his April had loved, so he offered her none. So it surprised him when she reached her orgasm so quickly. Then she surprised him again when, after he followed her with his own, she demanded more, immediately. Fortunately he was up to the challenge and an hour after they began, she rolled off of him, leaving him spent and sweaty.

She lay naked in her bed, staring at the ceiling. He lay naked next to her, looking at her, trying to decipher her thoughts. “April..” he began.

“You can go now.” she dismissed him. So much for easing her pain.

She never even looked at him as he slipped from the bed and retrieved his clothes from the floor. _You frickin idiot_ , he chided himself as he let himself out of her apartment. _Now you've literally screwed this up beyond all redemption_.

It took him another hour to make his way back to Jackson's apartment. Between the storm and the late hour he was thankful to even get an Uber. Deciding to just leave the Matrix at the hospital, he wearily dragged himself up the stairs to the apartment. But, of course, no rest awaited him there.

  
  


“Oh my God! I can't believe you slept with her!”

“If you think about it, I've slept with her a lot of times so not that hard to believe really.”

“She picked you up in a bar and took you home for practically anonymous sex. How could you think that was a good idea?”

“Well, I'll admit it was a mistake, if that makes you feel any better.”

“That makes it worse!” cried Jackson.

“Look at the bright side.” suggested the other Jackson.

“What _bright side_?” his counterpart demanded.

“She thinks she slept with you.”

Jackson's expression turned to one of horror.

“So now at least you've established a personal relationship finally.”

“What? A personal relationship? Are you out of your frickin mind? To her, I'm now a glorified vibrator. That's not a personal relationship!”

“You know, you're pretty tense for a guy that just got laid.”

Jackson Avery was a pretty even-tempered man. He preferred to avoid conflict. But right then, he was sorely tempted to punch the other Jackson right in the mouth.

To his way of thinking, this was an unmitigated disaster. Not only had the other Jackson had sex with April, _his_ April, as he was now thinking of her, but the circumstances seemed to preclude any chance, however slim, he might have had of establishing a real relationship with her.

In essence,  _idiot Jackson_ , as he now felt justified in referring to him, had not only screwed up his relationship with April in his own dimension, he had managed to screw it up here too.

_Damn it!_ The other thing that makes this suck so bad is that while his idiot counterpart had been describing how he and his April had fallen in love, he had begun to picture it so clearly for himself and his April. Not only picture it but actually start to feel it. It was strange, and wholly different from the butterflies he always felt when he was near her. He knew how to differentiate his crush from what Jackson had described. And somehow, the knowledge that it had actually happened in some alternate universe had taken the possibility of it and made it real to him now, in his.

“What did you mean when you said you'd _made it impossible to fix the situation_?”

The other Jackson looked at him. “The reason I'm here.”

“Which is?”

“To do what I couldn't do in my own reality. To save April Kepner.”

  
  


April barely heard her phone when it rang at ten after ten the next morning. Groaning, she crawled out of bed and made her way to where her purse lay on her bedroom floor.

The sex she'd had a few hours earlier had been her first in a long long time and, at her age, that entailed some after-the-fact soreness. Good thing for her Avery wasn't ridiculously endowed or she probably wouldn't have been walking too well right now.

She saw it was her mother calling and groaned. Probably the last person on earth she wanted to talk to at that moment, she considered letting the call go to voicemail. But she knew from experience that would just invite a calling campaign the likes of which would make a telemarketer green with envy. She pressed **Accept**.

“Hi Mom. No, it's fine, I'm up. Uh huh. Yes, it was a very bad storm. Yes, very tough night at work. No, I'm fine, just very tired. Mom, why are you calling? Yes, she told me she was going for an ultrasound. Oh? They want her back again today? That's unusual. No, Mom, I have no idea why they would do that. Yes, Mom, I'm a doctor but I am not in peds. Look, do you have the ultrasound from yesterday? Okay, text it to me and I'll ask around at the hospital. Yes, I have a noon shift today. Okay, let me know what they say today and I'll let you know if I find out anything at this end. Okay. Bye. Love you too. Bye.”

  
  


“Save her from what?”

“I'm not exactly sure. That one of the things that's been so challenging.”

“You're not exactly representing us too well.”

“It's all very complicated. Every time there's some new circumstances or outcomes or players. And I've had to figure things out all on my own.”

“Well, let's start with what you do know. What happened in your own reality?”

“Okay. You remember that April and Harriet were living with me still when we got back from Montana?”

This Jackson nodded.

That Jackson continued, “Well, it was kind of awkward, probably because April thought one thing happened in Montana and I thought it was something entirely different.”

Jackson muttered “Idiot” under his breath.

“What now?” the other Jackson asked.

“Nothing, go on.”

“Anyway,” an annoyed Jackson continued, “the hospital was pretty crazy. I began to spend a lot of time with Maggie Pierce and her mother.”

Jackson nodded again. “I remember Maggie's mother passed last year. I treated her initial infection but passed her on to the oncologist once she was diagnosed with cancer.”

“But you didn't get, uh, personally involved with Maggie?”

“No. Never got any sort of feeling from her that way. She's very nice and everything but there's no..”

“Chemistry?”

“Right, no chemistry.”

“Yeah, I've heard that a lot. Anyway, while I was doing that, April was busy with her own stuff and we barely saw each other. Then, the night of the explosion..”

Jackson interrupted. “We had one too.”

“Yeah, I saw the construction. I hear Stephanie died.”

“That's right.”

“That's a shame.” Jackson saw no reason to go into detail about his history with Edwards or identify her as the intern he was dating while April was with Matthew.

“So the night of the explosion April and Maggie and I were in the evacuation area and April thought she saw me looking at Maggie.”

“What does that mean, _looking at Maggie_?

“You know, _looking_ at her. That I had feelings for her.”

“Wait, April thought you had feelings for Maggie?”

“Right.”

“Did you?”

“Ironically, no, not at that time anyway. But that's what she told Maggie, apparently.”

This Jackson pursed his lips. “She told Maggie?”

“Yes. Then Maggie and I talked and she told me. Meanwhile, April finally admitted that the Montana thing had confused and pained her and she decided she had to move out. And she did.”

“You let her? You couldn't stop her?”

This time Jackson immediately recognized the guilty expression on that Jackson's countenance.

“You didn't even try,” he said quietly, “did you?”

Somehow all this retelling was coming out all wrong. He seemed to be giving the impression that he was the bad guy. But he didn't like to think of himself as the bad guy. He wasn't really the bad guy, was he?

“Look, once you get to know her you'll find out that April wants what April wants. So, no, I didn't try to stop her.”

This Jackson held his tongue but his thoughts ran something like  _ except when she wanted to stay married and wanted sex with you to mean something _ .

Jackson continued, “This is where I started to lose track of what was happening to April. I got wrapped up in my own thing.”

The other Jackson interrupted again, “Was your thing a Maggie thing?”

“Yes.” he admitted. “Once April put it out there both Maggie and I started to think about it. At first it seemed silly. But then we also found ourselves together a whole lot and the more we talked and spent time together, the more consideration we began to give having a relationship.”

“So it was April's fault you got involved with Maggie?”

“Stop it. I hear the accusations in your voice and all the muttering and shade you're throwing my way. I repeat, you weren't there. You didn't live it like we did. You have no right to judge me or her.”

“Okay, you're right.” conceded Jackson. He realized it wasn't going to help the cause to continue being hostile to the other Jackson. If April was in trouble or danger or whatever, she needed him. And to help her, he needed Jackson. 

  
  


“Arizona, got a minute?”

“Sure, April, what's up?”

“Can you take a look at this for me? Tell me if you see anything out of the ordinary?” April handed her the ultrasound photo.

“She come into the ER?” asked the puzzled Peds surgeon.

“No.” answered April.

“Oh my God, April, are you...?”

“No! God, no! It's my sister's” April answered. Boy wouldn't that be a shocking development!

Arizona nodded and directed her attention toward the photo. “Hmmm.” April noted her friend's concerned expression.

“What?” the trauma surgeon pressed.

“Nothing, maybe.” Arizona paused. “Just …,”

“Arizona, what?”

“Well, the way he's sitting. It's a little odd.”

“You mean like a little Buddha? He was like that on the last ultrasound too.” April smiled.

But Arizona didn't. Her expression of concern immediately deepened. “He was sitting the same way in a previous ultrasound? Do you have that one?”

“No, but I remember my sister telling us about it. Why?”

“Can you get it for me? The previous picture?”

“Sure, I'll ask my mom to text it over. Why, Arizona?”

“I don't want to say anything until I see that other ultrasound pic.”

“Arizona, you're scaring me a little.” April could see that the peds surgeon was being extremely cautious, never a good sign.

“Just get me that other pic, okay?”

  
  


“So what _do_ you remember about April?”

"She seemed okay. A little sad that we were now splitting time with Harriet. I don't think she had a lot of support from anyone for awhile either. Her best friends on the staff either left or got involved in their own drama."

“Which friends?”

“Riggs, for one.”

“Nathan Riggs?”

“Right. He ended up leaving to go live with Hunt's sister and her son.”

“Okay, that happened here too. Except I don't think Riggs and April were particularly close.”

“No, they wouldn't be in this instance. In my instance they met in Jordan. But April didn't go to Jordan in this instance.”

“Right. Okay, who else?”

“Arizona Robbins. But in my instance her daughter had just returned to live with her so she was too preoccupied to be there for April too.”

This Jackson thought hard about who April was closest too. “Hunt. In this reality he's like her big brother. He's her mentor and most loyal friend.”

“Same for mine, but that's another one of my screw ups.” that Jackson got up and began to pace.

“What do you mean?”

Jackson described what had happened in the ER and how Owen Hunt was now fighting for his life, with terrible burns and other injuries. “It's fifty fifty whether he makes it.”

“And he got injured because you tried to change how it happened?”

“Yes. One thing I learned pretty quick once I started hopping from one reality to another is that bad things happen if I try to directly intervene in something to change the way it happened in my reality.”

“If that's true, then how on earth do we prevent whatever bad thing is going to happen to April?”

“That's where you come in. I can't save her.”

“But I can.” this Jackson completed the thought.

“Right. All I can do is help in little ways on the edge of things. If I try to manipulate the situation in any important way then it will screw things up even worse.”

“Like getting Hunt injured?”

“Exactly.”

“But I'm confused. You're here for April. So how does Hunt being injured or killed affect her?”

“Think about it. He's her bestie at the moment. He dies, or even suffers terribly..”

“April is devastated.” Jackson again completed the thought. _Crap!_ Then it occurred to him. “But you slept with her last night.”

“And likely screwed things up beyond all salvation.”

_ Double crap! _

 

April stood silently at the foot of the burn bed. Owen Hunt was in an induced coma to spare him the intense pain that would accompany consciousness. The only sound in the room was the hiss of the ventilator that kept him alive. The prognosis at this point was not good. He would need a miracle to ever function normally again, the mediocre plastics doc had said.

_A miracle_ ? Hear that God? That's your cue. You owe us a few. Still not picking up? Well screw you then. April had reached her breaking point.

Arizona, upon receiving the earlier ultrasound had immediately requested the contact information for the Toledo doctor treating April's sister.

A long distance consultation had been arranged and in short order a diagnosis had been agreed upon; osteogenesis imperfecta. Alice had already undergone an  amniocentesis and the cells were now being analyzed to determine the type they were dealing with.

April had done her homework during her lunch hour. The prognosis ranged from very difficult to horrendous. When she read that her nephew's bones may be breaking in her sister's womb, the place he should be safest, she had to go lock herself in a supply closet and cry away the last of her tears.

There was no fairness to be found anywhere in her life right now. And she was angry about it. She had remained a faithful servant in the face of much scorn and ridicule. But she had stuck by her faith. She had stuck by her God. But had he stuck by her? She tried hard to believe he had but it was getting harder and harder to see Him. That old story about the footprints in the sand? She had loved that. But now she suspected that single set of footprints behind her, belonged only to her. And it both broke her heart and made her angry as hell.

To have yesterday's string of disasters capped by today's news... She wasn't sure she could ever feel good about anything again.

 

“There must be something specific that happened to April.” this Jackson insisted.

“It could be any of a dozen different patients or even family events that I have no way of knowing about.” that Jackson replied.

“You didn't do anything to her, did you?” Jackson asked suspiciously.

That Jackson gave him an angry look. “No! I told you, I barely ever saw her then. Outside of that one day when we ended up working together to treat a kid that got shot by a cop.”

Jackson, remembering, shook his head sadly.

“What?” this Jackson asked him.

“Just remembering that case. Twelve year old black kid. Cop shot him climbing in the window of his own house. Way too much of that stuff going on.”

“Here too.” this Jackson replied.

“Yeah, in every instance apparently.” that Jackson added.

Simultaneously the men's eyes locked together.

“You said April worked with you on that patient?” this Jackson asked.

“Yes. And we lost him. A bullet fragment nicked his carotid and we lost him.”

“April?”

“She was crushed. I remember her telling the police something about not being able to believe in a system that allowed this to happen. I think it was her first personal experience with racial bias in that context. She probably was also thinking about what Harriet will have to face later too.”

“That would make sense.”

“I think that was a brutal day for her anyway.”

“How so?”

“Besides the boy, there was a pregnant woman in distress. Get this, it turned out to be Matthew's wife.”

“Matthew? THE Matthew?” this Jackson asked

“The very same. And he arrived just when April was elbow deep delivering their baby. I remember she came over to tell me. I made some joke about how soul crushing it must be for her.”

“Soul crushing.” repeated this Jackson. Something about that short phrase was igniting sparks in his brain.

“Well, its pretty appropriate for April. Is she a devout Christian here too? Didn't seem like it last night.”

“Seems like she is. I seem to remember her talking about it with Reed and Charles one day when her pastor showed up for an appointment with Mathis.”

“Mathis? Oh, no. Guess there are some things you just can't pray for.” that Jackson said with a tight lipped smile.

“But Matthew's story had a happy ending.” this Jackson said. “April delivered their baby.”

“No, not a happy ending. Matthews wife hemorrhaged and died. And at first, people were pointing fingers at April since she had basically been laying in the ER all day. But later it came out that she had naturally low blood pressure.”

“So everyone missed the elevated bp that would have tipped them off that something was going sideways.”

“Exactly. Doubt that would have buoyed her spirits much anyway. That day started with a loss and the hits just kept coming.”

“You mean the twelve year old?”

“No, now I remember she was working on someone when I walked in that morning. I remember because Karev and Wilson were weirdly watching everything through the treatment room window. And I heard Meredith tell April she could not lose him. And April said something about thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Did she? Lose him, I mean.”

“I'm not sure. But later I heard a wild story how he was in recovery but tried to jump out of bed and attack Wilson and some other woman but tripped and fractured his skull. Ended up an organ donor. Wonder if April ever heard that whole story?”

“That was a brutal day.”

'Yeah, a lot like last night. One loss after another. That takes its toll, especially if you care like April does. It's her strength and her weakness. She never did learn to compartmentalize like the rest of us.”

They let silence take hold of the room for several moments.

Finally, this Jackson broke it. “So you still haven't told me what we're supposed to save April from.”

That Jackson looked at him carefully, then made up his mind. “Sometime shortly after that day, April dies under mysterious circumstances.”

“Mysterious circumstances?”

“Yes. In every case, in every instance, there's doubt.”

“What kind of doubt?”

“The kind of doubt that makes you question whether it was an accident or ...”

“Suicide? April? You don't believe that.”

“I don't know. That's the problem. _I wasn't there._ ”

 


	8. Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson learns that April's personal crisis may be tied to her grisly fate so they put a plan in motion to try and protect her from all harm.  
> But even if possible, it may be too late as another worst case scenario comes to pass, furthering the deterioration of her faith.
> 
> God, I don't know if you're out there or not, or if you can even hear people that don't know you're out there, or if you give a crap about what they say, but God, Yahweh, ET, Buddah, whatever... April knows. She knows, right? She believes and she needs you, so show up for her? Please? Show up for April. She loves you. She needs you. Please, show up for her. Please – Jackson Avery

“Do you seriously think April would ever take her own life?”

“Me, no, but other people might.”

“But she’s so full of life.”

“Like Robin Williams you mean?”

“Robin Williams had a long history of clinical depression, exacerbated by drug use.” replied this Jackson. “There’s no comparison.”

“Just saying that it’s hard to spot sometimes. And there is all kinds of evidence that April was going through some kind of emotional crisis.” that Jackson answered.

But this Jackson shook his head vehemently. “No. Everyone talks about how tough she is. And her faith …”

“Listen, I was there when we lost our son. I swear to you a light went out in her. Her eyes became lifeless. And she couldn't do anything or accept any help, even from me. The thought crossed my mind even then.”

This Jackson looked at his counterpart. “But she recovered. She came back from it.”

“So here's the thing,” that Jackson answered, “I'm not sure that's entirely true. I think losing Samuel not only caused a crisis of faith but it gave her a bad case of PTSD. I know it gave me one. But April's way of dealing with that was to go to frickin Jordan. How can going to a war zone help with PTSD? I think she was kidding herself about finding healing there. I think her natural toughness just reasserted itself. And maybe all the adrenaline fooled her into thinking she was all better again.”

“So you think she came back still wounded?”

“Yes. I've been thinking about it and now I think that may be why she thought she had to go back. I think when she returned a part of her realized that she was still hurt. Maybe she felt she needed to go back and finish.”

“Well that would explain her going back a second time. Makes more sense than the reasons she gave you.” this Jackson acknowledged. “But what about when she came back after that?”

“She came back to the whole mess with the divorce. And if she was still suffering a crisis in her faith, that would only make it worse.”

“You believe your April committed suicide?”

“No I don’t. My April wouldn’t. But some of the other April’s might have.”

“Why not yours?” this Jackson asked.

“Harriet.” Jackson answered. “There is no universe where April would do harm to Harriet. I think Harriet is the lifeline that she needed. I think that in any universe where Harriet is alive, April would never consider harming herself.”

“If that's true, then we can rule out suicide in any reality where Harriet exists.” this Jackson stated. He paused, turning this information over in his mind. “So we know something bad is going to happen. Can't we just head it off? Help her dodge the bullet, so to speak?” he asked.

“That's what I tried the first fifty or so times. First I tried myself, then wised up and got the other Jackson onboard to try it. It didn't matter. We might keep her from one horrible fate and she’d be claimed by another. It's like that crappy horror movie, Final Destination; no matter what we did death still found her.”

“Then what the hell does it matter?” this Jackson cried in frustration. “If we can't save her, why are you even making these jumps to other dimensions?”

“I think you’re missing the point. Suicide or not, in every single instance, every single case, it appears April was in some sort of emotional turmoil. And it somehow contributed to putting her in harm's way. In my reality, she started drinking, her personality changed, she even started screwing some intern.”

Now it was this Jackson’s turn to get up and pace.

“Wait, you think there’s a link? You think whatever she was going through directly or indirectly contributes to her death?

“Yes, I do.”

“So even  if we can’t prevent the event that kills her…”

“We might be able to prevent the crisis.”

“And maybe that saves her?”

“Or at least keeps her from dying alone and in pain.”

  
  


April finished up with her patient and returned to the nurses station. Wow, three hours in and haven't killed anyone yet, she thought. Maybe the bad streak is over. In fact, the ER had stayed pretty quiet since she'd arrived at noon.

Was God back on the job? If so, His timing couldn't be better as she waited to hear the results of her sister's tests. Please let it be  _ Type 1, please let it be Type 1  _ she repeated the mantra in her head.

Then she had to take a break to deal with fresh intake. A car fire left an elderly woman with severe burns. This reminded April that Owen Hunt was upstairs in the burn unit and the brief respite her spirit was enjoying was terminated abruptly.

  
  


“How do we do that?” this Jackson asked.

“For starters, we need someone to be her friend. She needs somebody she can count on no matter what.” Jackson answered. “The only one at Grey Sloan that fits that description is Owen Hunt.”

“Who is possibly contributing to the problem rather than being able to help us.”

“Thanks to me.”

“You were trying to save a life.” this Jackson pointed out

Jackson replied with a grateful smile. “Still, leaves us with an opening to fill.”

“Right. How do we do that? Craigslist?”

That Jackson looked at him.

“Oh.... Ooohhh”

“We need you right next to her. We need to know what's going on with her; if she's happy, if she's sad.”

“Okay, let's say we can still do that, especially after last night's little direct action on your part. You said we probably only have a few days, how will I get her to trust me in a few days?”

“You'll think of something.” that Jackson answered.

“Uh huh. And when I find out she's sad?”

“Do whatever it takes to make her unsad.”

“This is a pretty shaky plan.”

“That’s the hand we’ve been dealt. We don’t know for sure what will happen, when it will happen, or what we can do about it. Hell, we don’t even know what a successful outcome looks like. We’ll have to play it by ear and feel our way through it.”

“So what’s our first move?” this Jackson asked.

“Put you in motion. You need to attach yourself to her and do everything you can to keep her from harm?”

“Harm?”

“Physical, Emotional, Spiritual, any kind of harm.”

“And while I’m doing that?”

“I’ll work on trying to keep us ahead of the curve. If I can spot some of the bad stuff in time maybe we can head it off somehow. And I’ve also got an idea about fixing some of the damage already done.”

Jackson nodded. It was simple really. All they had to do was keep every bad thing away from April Kepner.

“Let’s get to work.” he said, not knowing that task had just become considerably more difficult.

  
  


Type 2, of course it is Type 2. What reason would she have to expect that it would be anything different than the worst possible outcome? Her sister was shattered. Her mother was already prattling on about God's will. April had barely been able to restrain herself from opening another front in the battle she was waging on THAT subject.

She looked up and was surprised to find herself outside the door to the hospital chapel. “Speak of the devil.” she whispered. And that made her laugh, a dry, humorless laugh. Lost in thought, her autopilot must have brought her here. It certainly hadn't been a conscious decision.

“What the hell.” she muttered, and pushed through the door.

The chapel was empty, as she usually found it. She stood in the aisle, unsure that she wanted to sit in here today.

“Well, here we are again.” she said aloud. “Betcha didn't expect to see me in here again any time soon.” April walked forward, dragging her hand along the back of a pew as she did. “So, we're not exactly on friendly terms at the moment, are we? I think we both know why. I can't quite wrap my head around why a God who is supposed to be all about love and light, allows so much death and darkness to go on in the world. I mean I get the whole free will and people choosing to do bad things to other people. But what about this other shit? The crappy things that happen to good people for no apparent reason. How does Elyse's husband going home with their baby but not with her, further your plan? Huh? Cause I'd really like to know. How does Owen Hunt getting frickin cooked in that bus help you? He was rescuing a child! And that's what happens to him? How can that be part of a loving God's plan?”

Now April was at the foot of the altar. “Tell me. Because I really want to know. How does my sister's baby, his bones breaking in her womb, how does that fit into your fucking plan? Huh? Are you really a loving God? Then fix this! Stop all this senseless death. Heal Owen and the other broken people out there. Even just some of them. Really, my expectations can't get any lower.”

She turned and walked toward the door. But just as she reached it, she turned back.

“Amen.” she said with just a hint of sarcasm, and pushed out of the chapel

  
  


In the ER a few minutes later, she looked up from the chart she was studying, surprised and unhappy to see the person standing in front of her.

“Doctor Avery. Returning to the scene of the crime? Anxious to wreak more havoc in my ER?”

Jackson wondered if his other self might have left out some of the details of his eventful turn in the ER the previous night.

“Uh, well, you said you could use some more hands down here so I thought I'd take you up on it.”

April squinted at him. He looked slightly different than the man who had occupied her bed for an hour or so in the early morning hours.

“Are you even working today? I didn't see you on the duty roster.”

“Actually, no, I don't have a shift today. I just came down to help out for a few hours.”

April's expression betrayed no small hint of annoyance. She grabbed him by the arm and hurried him into the nearby conference room, closing the door behind her.

“Was I not clear about last night? This... you and I thing that you've obviously got going on in your head, it's not happening. We fucked. Once. Well, twice, technically, but that's it. Not going to happen again. We don't owe each other anything. End of story.”

Jackson threw up his hands. “April, I get it. I'm just here to help out. Trauma is interesting. It's a nice change of pace from ENT.”

“And that's it?” April asked doubtfully. “This isn't about last night? At all?”

“That's it.” replied Jackson. “Scouts honor.” he held up his fingers in the Vulcan Live Long and Prosper sign, hoping it would pass for the Boy Scout salute.

Fortunately for him, April was neither a Trekkie nor a Scout, so he got away with it. “Okay. But the first hint I get that you're after something else, I'm kicking your ass out of here. Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am. Got it.” he answered.

“Trauma two. Head lac.” April gave him one last doubtful look and then turned and exited the room, shaking her head as she went.

  
  


Two floors above, another conversation was taking place.

He entered the Plastics lab and found Doctor Cleveland Exeter browsing the Internet on his workstation. Doctor Exeter looked up in surprise. “Can I help you?” he asked the vaguely familiar colleague.

“No, but I can help you.” Jackson answered. “How familiar are you with Meeks work with autologous grafting?”

April Kepner would have been shocked to learn who was trying to answer her prayers.

 


	9. Guardian Angels Or Something Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phase one of the plan works even better than expected with an unknowing assist from Chief Bailey.  
> But if the omniscient Bailey recovers from her flu, it may be difficult to maintain secrecy in their two front campaign.  
> Meanwhile, Jackson finds himself in a situation reminiscent of one the other Jackson experienced. Will the outcome be similar as well?
> 
> “Start by fixing your heart.” -Jackson Avery  
> “What about my soul?” -April Kepner  
> “Fix your heart and your soul will follow.” -Jackson Avery  
> “What do you know about souls?” -April Kepner  
> “Trust me.” -Jackson Avery

“Chief! You’re back.”

Miranda Bailey wore a surgical mask and frankly did not look well. “Yes, I had to drag myself out of bed and come in before I lost any more of my surgical staff.”

Bailey had been out with the flu for four days now.

“You’re still sick then?” April inquired.

“101.3”

“Is it really wise to come in then?”

“Kepner, do you think I wanted to come in here today? Do you think I wanted to do anything today except stay in my bed? No, Kepner, it is not wise to come in, however the hospital must continue to function even if my doctors continue to experience life threatening injuries, which they do. So here I am.”

Bailey did not wait for a response. “Kepner, how are you holding up?”

“Well, Chief, you know it's been a pretty rough couple of days. I've always considered Owen a mentor and to have him..”

Bailey cut her off. “Kepner, I'm sure it's been very hard on you. However, I was inquiring about the ER. With both Webber and Hunt down, are you able to keep functioning?”

“Oh, yes, sure, well, we're stretched really thin of course. Is there anyone we can borrow to help cover until Hunt and Webber come back?”

Bailey didn't feel it necessary to point out that either of them coming back was still very much in doubt. “We'll explore that possibility as soon as I am able. Meanwhile..” She noticed Jackson running toward the ambulance bay, Intern Glasses in tow. “What's Avery doing here?”

April, her eyes also following the two doctors, replied, “He just showed up to help out. He's such a weird duck.”

“Well that weird duck looks like he's busting his ass to give you some much needed help down here so let's not be too picky.”

April nodded. She had to admit, Jackson was running around like a demon. She hadn't been able to get to an intake since he had arrived. He seemed to be on a personal mission to singlehandedly treat every incoming emergency.

  
  


“What's your name?” Jackson asked the intern.

“Levi, but everyone just calls me Glasses.” the young doctor answered.

“You okay with that?” Jackson was wearing his contacts today but had plenty of experience with being called everything from _four-eyes_ to _goggles_ and even _Sir Specs-A-Lot._

“Yeah, It's sort of become my trademark.” the intern answered.

“Okay, then, Glasses it is. Until you tell me differently, okay?”

Glasses nodded.

“Okay, so I need your help. You and I are going to snag every incoming patient we can.”

“Really? Why?” the puzzled intern asked.

“Let's just say that since I don't get a lot of ER time, I want to make the most of it.”

“Oh? You thinking of doing another specialty?” Glasses knew that Jackson was the Grey Sloan ENT.

“Something like that. So I figure it's good for you too since you'll get a lot of procedures out of it.”

“Sure, makes sense.”

“You're in? Great! Now let's bust our asses and rock this joint.” 

And so they had. They would be finishing up on a patient and the call would come in for the next ambulance. Jackson would leave Glasses to wrap up while he sprinted to the ambulance bay. Then the intern would rejoin him and they would repeat the cycle. 

Several times a call had come in and April had been about to grab a pad when Jackson would snatch it away and disappear. In other times, April would have been angry and annoyed but today she was so exhausted she gave in without complaint. Besides, when she checked on their work it all looked good and having him chase down all the incoming had allowed her more research into OI Type 2, though that hadn't yielded anything except more frustration.

  
  


“Kepner, are you listening to me?”

April brought her focus back to Bailey, who apparently had been saying something to her while her mind wandered.

“I'm sorry, Chief, it's been a rough week.”

“Yes, I heard you the first time. Try doing it with a high fever. What I was saying is that with Hunt out indefinitely, you'll become acting Head of Trauma. I trust you are okay with that?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Thank you for the confidence.”

“All right, I'm going to take care of a few more pressing details then go back home and to bed. Carry on, Kepner.”

“Yes ma'am.” April replied. Nothing like a little more pressure on top of all the other crap, she thought.

Jackson and Glasses rushed a patient on a gurney by her on their way to Trauma 3. At least someone has energy to burn, April thought.

  
  


If Jackson had heard her thought he most probably would have agreed wholeheartedly. Despite getting virtually no sleep the previous twenty-four hours, he felt alert and energized. He'd always enjoyed the adrenaline rush that comes with working the ER but there was more to it than that. Something about this bizarre situation, which should have terrorized him, had instead ignited him. 

It didn't require much analysis to figure that out. Since he'd first seen her at Mercy West, he'd carried a torch for April Kepner. It was the kind of crush that caused his breathing to quicken and his pulse to race. It also resurrected the painful shyness of his youth. Being near her turned him right back into the skinny, awkward, gangly Jackson of his high school years, complete with tongue tied and twisted.

But that Jackson wouldn't be capable of saving her from whatever horrible fate awaited her. And save her is what he meant to do. The other Jackson might say her death was inevitable, but this one would not accept that. So it was necessary to rid himself of shy awkward Jackson and become the one Jackson through space and time that could save her. She needed him to become a force to be reckoned with. So he did. For her.

  
  


Bailey had just shut the door to her office when she was accosted by Plastics Fellow Cleveland Exeter.

“Doctor Bailey, a minute please.”

Bailey grumbled quietly. All she really wanted to do was go home. Plus she considered Exeter a mediocre surgeon at best. That was why one of the things on her list was to find a better Plastics doc for Hunt. But she hadn't gotten there yet.

“Yes, Exeter, one minute.”

“I just spent an hour with our Jackson Avery. It was a very interesting conversation. I'd like to borrow him to assist with Owen Hunt.”

“Avery? Why?” asked a very feverish Miranda Bailey.

“It seems he has taken a very great interest in skin grafting. He had some very intriguing ideas I'd like to explore for Hunt.”

“It seems Doctor Avery is a man of many hidden talents.” Bailey replied. Very hidden.

“Would you allow me to pull him into the case then?”

“Suddenly, he's in high demand. I suppose we can let him consult on Hunt. Work it out with Kepner.”

“Kepner? Why Kepner?”

“Because I've just reassigned Avery to Trauma.”

  
  


Thirty minutes earlier, Bailey had stopped by the room of the child Hunt had rescued from the bus. Evie was doing fine, despite burns and shrapnel wounds from the exploding bus.

Bailey spoke with Evie's mother, who was effusive in her praise for Bailey's staff, especially of course for Owen Hunt. “But all the doctors have been just marvelous.” she said.

“Good. That is what we like to hear.” Bailey responded, taking a quick look at Evie's wounds and burns. Hmmm. Maybe Exeter was finally upping his game. Whoever had treated these burns and stitched the wounds had really known what they were doing. It was flawless work. She hadn't seen anything that beautiful since Mark Sloan had died.

She checked the chart. Then she double-checked it. Exeter hadn't been anywhere near the child. The name of the doctor? Jackson Avery.

Something strange was going on with young Doctor Avery but Bailey was too sick to pursue it at the moment. But she would get better.

  
  


Jackson had just finished treating a cyclist who had been clipped by a car. He exchanged a high five with Glasses for a job well done. He thought the intern was doing very well. And he hadn't complained once about being asked to race to and fro through the ER. On the contrary, he had just thanked Jackson for “the most fun I've ever had at work.”

With a little break in the action, Jackson leaned against an empty gurney. Looking across the ER, he saw that April was still absorbed in whatever she was doing on the nurses station computer.

At that moment, his phone vibrated with an incoming text message. He saw April also distracted by something.

Unlocking his phone he read the text. It was from Bailey.

** Effective immediately, Doctor Avery reassigned Trauma **

Surprised, he looked across the ER at April. She had gotten the same text. She looked up at him. While his reaction was a broad smile, hers was not.

  
  


“Care to explain how you managed to pull that off?” April demanded after she cornered him.

“You'd best ask Bailey. I had nothing to do with it.” he answered

“Really? First you show up here on your day off then the next thing I know you're assigned to me in Trauma. And it's all just coincidental.”

“Assigned to you? Wait, are you the new head of Trauma?”

“Interim Head of Trauma.” she corrected. While April appreciated the promotion and faith shown in her, she couldn't bear to think that Owen Hunt wouldn't return to his position.

“Congratulations, boss.” he grinned.

“Shut it!” she replied a little more harshly than she intended. This was all a bit much. In a gentler tone she continued, “Look, I do need the help. And you and Glasses did a pretty solid job here today. I'll update the schedule and get it posted. You know where to find it? Good. See you tomorrow then.”

“Do I have to leave?” Jackson asked.

“You can do whatever you want, apparently. But I'm done and getting out of here. The night shift has arrived and I need a drink.”

“Great! I'm buying.”

“Oh no you are not. Not for me anyway. I warned you that was a one time thing.”

“I was just talking about a friendly drink.”

“Uh huh. Not happening. You go your way and I'll go mine.”

April spun around and stalked off, unsure what game Jackson Avery was playing but determined not to be sucked into it.

  
  


April exited the ER and paused on the sidewalk. She looked across the street toward Joe's Bar and hesitated. She took a step in that direction but abruptly turned and headed for the parking lot instead.

Watching from just inside the door, Jackson breathed a sigh of relief. He had never been good in bars. And despite what Jackson had described as a “no effort required” pickup the previous night, he was sure he would mess it up if he had to try it tonight. 

Even though she had been crystal clear about where he stood with her, he would've tried of course, not because he wanted to have sex with her, well he did want to but wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet, but because Jackson had insisted it was imperative that she not pick up somebody else. 

So it was with palpable consolation that he watched her instead make her way toward her car, hopefully with the intent of driving it home and getting some sleep. 

After counting to ten, he too exited the ER and was about to step onto the parking lot asphalt when the Miata pulled up in front of him, top down, it's driver wearing over sized sunglasses that covered half her face.

He stood looking down at her while she stared straight ahead. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Well, are you getting in our not?”

Sensing that anything he said would cause her to drive off, he silently opened the door of the car and slid down into the low seat. She shoved the car into gear and released the clutch before he even had a chance to close the door.

Three blocks later she spoke again. “Same rules as last night.”

For this Jackson, this was a cause for some concern. The other Jackson hadn't mentioned any _rules_.

Another three blocks passed by before he dared speak. “But you said ...”

“I know what I said. This is still nothing. It's just a simpler nothing with you than with another guy.”

Jackson didn't particularly like being considered a _simpler nothing_. But he couldn't figure out how to make a useful argument against the description.

They reached her house in short order as April drove like a maniac all the way. Jackson held on for dear life and cast several concerned glances her way, all of which she caught with her peripheral vision. He hadn't been this much of a pansy the previous night, she thought. So she pushed it harder just to really put a scare into him. 

Part of her regretted taking her anger and frustration out on him. But right now, that part was a silent minority.

She pulled into her garage and stopped the engine. Before she could open her car door she heard him say, “Are you hungry? We could go get something. Or I can cook something for you? I'm a pretty good cook.”

April looked at him coldly, her expression telling him that she wasn't interested in food. She climbed out of the Miata and entered the house. Jackson followed more slowly. He had no idea how he should proceed in this situation. He thought of what the other Jackson had done. But that wasn't too comforting either.

Entering the house he found April in the kitchen, pouring wine into a glass. She pointed the bottle at him.

“Uh, no thanks.” he replied.

April shrugged and proceeded to top off her glass before setting the bottle down on the counter and taking her glass toward her bedroom. This time, however, she looked back over her shoulder to see if he was following. He wasn't. _Fuck! I knew it. I knew he'd pull some shit. Should've grabbed that idiot intern with the nice body, Vince or Vik or something or other. That moron would be happy to dip his wick no questions asked._

“What now?” she asked crossly.

“Can't we just talk for a minute before? I mean, don't you like to know someone a little before you, you know...”

“Fuck them?” April finished the thought as harshly as she knew how. “No. To answer your question, no. I don't need to know you. I don't want to know you. All I need to know about you is that you have a dick and it functions reasonably well for my purposes. And I do know that. Because we already fucked, remember? And this little ritual of you having to talk yourself into my bed is getting a little tedious, not to mention bruising my ego. That you, of all people, would have any hesitation given this opportunity, is just so frickin deflating.”

Jackson's expression hardened. “What's that supposed to mean? Me _of all people_.

April scoffed. “Oh please, has anyone ever seen you with a girl. If not for last night I would have bet with the house that you were either a virgin or gay or both.”

Now it was Jackson's turn to be angry. “I'm not … what does _bet with the house_ mean?”

“It means the whole hospital thinks that.” That little voice of regret in her head was gone, drowned out by the cacophony of anger and frustration that consumed her. It was nothing personal toward him. Jackson Avery was just collateral damage.

But to him, it had become very personal. “This is bullshit. I don't need to take this from you.” he exclaimed. He turned and made for the door.

But April followed after him. “Yeah, go ahead and run back to mommy.”

He spun around and put his face very close to hers. “Don't you dare say anything about my mother.” he said in a low voice. “You said it yourself. You don't know me. You don't want to. Well, congratulations because I don't care anymore.”

“Fine by me.” she retorted.

Jackson scowled. “You know, I thought you...” he mastered his anger. “I thought you were special. I thought someone like you was too good for someone like me. But I guess I was wrong.”

“I guess so.” she shot back. Her damaged soul would not let her give another inch. “Run along then.”

“Fuck you.” he replied. This close he could see the detail in her hazel eyes. He saw the anger. This close he also saw the pain, the deep pool of it. 

“That moment has passed.” she responded. Somehow though she was looking at his lips. Involuntarily she licked her own.

Just in time, it turned out, because a moment later he was kissing her and she him back. He never knew that rule. And she had completely forgotten it.

 


	10. Strong Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does April complete the Jackson sweep? If so, will the outcomes be similar.  
> And who has the tougher assignment? This Jackson, who is charged with closing on April and protecting her from all harm, or that Jackson, who is trying to make amends for one of his earlier errors? 
> 
> God I feel like hell tonight  
> The tears of rage I cannot lie  
> I'd be the last to help you understand  
> Are you strong enough to be my man  
> My man  
> Nothing's true, and nothing's right  
> So let me be alone tonight  
> 'Cause you can't change the way I am  
> Are you strong enough to be my man -Sheryl Crow
> 
> “You can be with me tonight, but only if you leave me alone.” -April Kepner
> 
> “I can't do that. I could never do that.” - Jackson Avery

It was different from the night before. Not because she wanted it to be. She wanted it to be exactly like that previous time. When it was clear he was determined to show her tenderness, she fought against him. She hit him. She pinched him. She scratched him. But his response was always another tender caress. She bit him, hard, in places it must have hurt terribly. He kissed her sweetly and generously and her defenses crumbled. She wanted no feeling, no connection other than the physical, but he so clearly and completely opened himself up to her that she had no choice but to fall into him. _For one night only_ she told herself. And then, in his arms, she slept.

She awoke to the sun streaming through her bedroom window. Oh, Christ, what time was it? She was relieved to see it was only 7:30. Her shift didn't start for another couple of hours. She flopped back down in her bed. This was the first morning in forever that she actually felt refreshed. Probably because it was the first night in many nights that she had slept soundly. Then she remembered.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, sitting back up suddenly. She checked the other side of the bed. She was alone she realized with a sense of relief; relief tinged with disappointment. He must have slipped out. Thank God, she thought. She'd have to deal with him eventually but the longer she could put it off the better. Besides, why ruin her first good mood in what seemed like ages? Then she caught a whiff of bacon cooking. Oh, no.

She found him in her kitchen, at the stove. He was barefooted and shirtless and it was a good look for him. Especially the shirtless part. April pulled her robe tighter across her body as though to ward off any urges to resume the previous night's activities.

He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and smiled brightly at her. “Good morning. Hope you don't mind me taking liberties with your kitchen and food but I thought you might like some breakfast.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Uh, cooking breakfast. I think I just said that.” he answered.

“No, I mean why are you here in my house?”

“You brought me here, remember, last night? You picked me up in the parking lot after work, we came here, we made love, we...”

“Yes, yes, I know, I remember. But why are you STILL here?”

“And we're back to the cooking breakfast part. Not sure where you're getting lost.” Jackson answered.

April sighed. So much for my good mood. “Jackson, last night was great, it really was, but we can't just do this.”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Just start playing house like this. I am not in a good place right now. I have no interest at all in starting up a relationship. I just can't.”

“Let me stop you right there,” he interrupted. “I'm not asking you for any big commitment. All I'm asking for is a chance. I just don't want to be dismissed out of hand because there are other things in your life that aren't going well.”

“Aren't going well?” April scoffed. “See, that's why this won't work. You don't have a clue as to what's going on with me.”

“You don't think I know that? That's all I'm asking for, a chance to get to know you. And if, after we know each other better, we don't want to be anything more than friends then ...”

“But ..,”

He interrupted again, coming toward her now. “And as you said, last night was great.”

“But..,”

“Still with the _buts_?”

“Jackson, the bacon is burning.”

  


She squinted at him across the breakfast table, nibbling at her extra crispy bacon.

He noticed. “What?”

“We need some rules.”

“More rules?” he inquired.

“I need boundaries.” she insisted.

“Okay, I get that.” he acquiesced.

“At work, nothing changes. Strictly professional. At all times.”

“Sure, okay.” he agreed.

“I mean it. No sneaking off to on-call rooms for quickies. No snogging in supply closets.”

“Snogging? Are you quoting Harry Potter?” Jackson asked, unsuccessfully stifling a smile.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” she fired back. Once he appeared suitably serious again she continued. “No touches, no personal contact, no sweet smiles or puppy dog eyes.”

“No snogging OR puppy dog eyes? Man, that's my whole game.”

She rolled her eyes. “I'm serious. It's my way or the highway. Any questions?”

“Just one, do these rules apply to everyone or just you?”

The piece of toast she winged at him passed by his face with inches to spare.

  


His shift in the ER would start a few hours later than hers so when she drove in, he accompanied her, so he could pick up the Matrix and go home and change. Pulling the Miata into a parking slot, she killed the engine. Jackson leaned toward her. “What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed, leaning away from him.

“Didn't realize your work rules included all the parking lots in Seattle.”

“Well, realize it.” she ordered. “Now get the hell out of my car before someone sees you.”

“For crying out .. “

“You promised.”

“Okay, okay.” he surrendered. He already couldn't wait for work to be done so he could be with her again. This promised to be the longest day of his life.

While she entered the hospital, he made his way to the Matrix. Driving out of the parking lot, he failed to recognize the Harley Dyna parked in the motorcycle pad.

  


“So we use a split thickness skin graft instead of using a full thickness graft. We'll use Meeks concept of using micrografts in conjunction with Dermal–epidermal graft expansion techniques.”

“The theory being?” Exeter asked. It wasn't the first time.

“That the sum of perimeter of smaller grafts is larger than the harvested graft, and the smaller the graft size, the greater the potential for regeneration in newer modification. And, as graft size becomes smaller or minced, these micrografts can survive on the wound bed exudate irrespective of their dermal orientation.”

“Right.” the Plastics fellow nodded.

Jackson addressed the other doctor in the room. “With the extent of Hunt's damaged areas, I think is our best bet for early cover, faster healing, better quality of skin resurfacing, less donor site scarring and morbidity and avoidance of anesthesia and hospital stay. Early and faster wound coverage results in reduced infection, toxicity, mortality and earlier rehabilitation of burns.”

“Do you concur, Doctor Exeter?” asked Meredith Grey. Bailey had asked her to take charge of both Owen Hunt and Richard Webber's cases.

“Yes, I do.” replied Exeter.

“Alright then, book the OR. Doctor Exeter will lead and Avery assist. I'm sure I don't have to remind you how important it is to get this right, gentlemen?”

Both doctors nodded. Meredith arose from her chair. “Doctor Avery, a word please?”

Jackson fell in next to her as she stepped outside the skin lab and into the corridor.

“Avery, I don't know you very well. Do you know as much about this as it sounds like you do?”

“I do.”

“I don't really know how that could be given your background and lack of specialized training but it's clear that Exeter doesn't have a clue. That means this is all on you. Exeter may be lead on the board but you'll be the guy in the OR. Please tell me I'm not sentencing my friend to agonizing death or disfigurement.”

“Mer,” he began, missing her reaction. “I got this.”

“Okay, _Jack_ , don't make me regret this. Book the OR as soon as you're ready.”

Jackson nodded and Meredith left him standing in the hallway. _Jack?_

  


He had one more stop to make before he left the hospital. Unsure of his other self's whereabouts, it was risky to be here at all but caring for Hunt demanded he take his chances. Damn it though, their carefully made plans to synchronize their comings and going at Grey Sloan hadn't lasted twenty-four hours. There were other aspects of losing track of the other Jackson that bothered him too. Aspects he was less likely to admit to.

But his luck ran out abruptly when he strode quickly into Hunt's room and found the petite trauma surgeon there.

“Jackson?” she exclaimed, surprise evident on her pretty face.

“Oh shit.” he uttered, before he could recover his own shock.

“What are you doing here? You couldn't have made it home and back so soon.”

“Uh...uh” Jackson was at a loss for what to say.

April looked at him expectantly. “ _Uh_ ? That's all you can say? _Uh_?”

“I had some things to do first.” He hoped that was vague enough but not so vague as to encourage more questioning.

“Funny you didn't mention them to me earlier, particularly since one of them seems to involve Hunt.”

“Earlier?” So did earlier in this case mean this morning? And, if so, did it also mean last night? Jackson realized that the thought made him a little... uncomfortable. “Oh, right, you mean when we were together earlier.”

That caused April's face to break out into one of her classic Kepner WTF expressions. “What is wrong with you?”

Jackson realized a burning desire to change the subject. He indicated the patient on the burn bed. “So how's he doing today?”

It worked. April let herself be redirected. “I checked his chart. No change.”

Jackson walked around her and picked up the charting pad to check for himself. He knew she was right.

“So, why are you here?” April wasn't going to be thrown off the scent that easily, he realized.

“Just checking on him.” he answered, concentrating intently on the chart he had already read twice.

“But why? There's nothing on his chart about smoke inhalation or airway issues or anything that would require an ENT.”

“Correct. Nothing like that to worry about.” Frickin heck, what do I tell her now?

“And you and Owen barely know each other.” The noose tightened.

April Kepner was an extremely bright young woman. She knew when someone was stalling. She definitely knew that Jackson Avery was hiding something. Should have made a rule about that too, she thought. Only I get to have secrets.

“Spill it, Avery.” she commanded.

Well this was going to complicate matters a little. Or a lot. But she was going to find out sooner or later anyway. “I'm helping Doctor Exeter on Hunt's case.” Jackson told her.

“What? Why?”

“Seems I picked up some knowledge around skin grafts along the way.” he answered, watching her carefully.

April's puzzled expression spilled over into incredulity. Might as well go for the gold, thought Jackson.

“So, I'll be assisting on Hunt's surgery. Kinda wild, huh?”

  


“Do you mind telling me how you know anything about skin grafts?” April had virtually dragged him down to the cafeteria. It was safer there than alone with him in the Attending s Lounge, where someone might walk in and get the wrong idea, or the wrong idea rightly, or whatever. Anyway, if someone were to question why she was seen having coffee with Jackson Avery in the cafeteria she could easily point out that she was setting out some expectations for the newest surgeon on her service.

But the reality, of course, is she was beginning to get very suspicious about the man across the table. Even accepting that she had shared her bed with him the last two nights, and that was a BIG accepting, his behavior the last forty eight hours had been rather..., out of the ordinary. Better to figure this out sooner rather than after any feelings began to develop and someone, HIM of course, got hurt.

“Professional curiosity, possible career path, skin fetish, take your pick. Not sure why it's important.”

“It's important because you just admitted that the well being of Owen Hunt, my friend and mentor, a man I consider a brother, is going to be in your hands. Oh, don't give me that look. Everyone knows Exeter is dead weight. Somehow you've managed to convince someone...”

“Meredith Grey.”

“Managed to convince Meredith Grey, of all people, that you know enough about skin grafts to trust you with Owen Hunt. How could you do that? You have no specialized training, no certification, no experience, nothing! But somehow Meredith is okay putting you in an OR with a scalpel and Owen Hunt on the table.”

“Yeah, its not really a scalpel. It's actually a very specialized set of grafting instruments..”

“Shut. Up. I don't give a shit about that. However I do give a shit about how you would know that.”

“Okay, if I tell you will you let it drop? End the inquisition?” He had to extricate himself from this somehow. His other self might walk by at any time. And then the shit would really hit the fan.

April considered. This had better be good. If it wasn't, she thought she might now have other levers to pull. Jackson Avery would regret opening his heart to her. It was inevitable. “Alright, deal.”

Jackson sighed. “Mark Sloan.”

  


“I don't believe you.” she declared.

“It's true. Sloan was my mentor. You say Hunt is like a brother to you? Sloan was like a fa...like that for me.”

“Sloan was a perpetual teenager who couldn't keep his dick in his pants to save his life.”

“Sloan was a freakin superhero who taught me more about life and love and being a man than anybody but ...” Jackson replied sharply. “The people that knew him best loved him. Callie, Lexie, me. We loved the man.”

April looked at him carefully. She was caught off-guard by the passion in his voice. Of course everyone knew about Sloan and Callie because of Sophia. And everyone knew Lexie and Sloan were star crossed lovers lost tragically in a plane crash. She had even heard that Teddy and Sloan were a thing for awhile. And April was obviously aware of Reed's brief walk on Sloan's wild side. But she doubted anyone knew that Mark Sloan and Jackson Avery had any sort of relationship. It would be harder to find an odder pairing for a bromance than shy awkward Jackson Avery and let it all hang out Mark Sloan.

But Jackson Avery had been flying under the radar for a long time now hadn't he. Was it by design? Maybe, she thought, but if so, why was he suddenly out of cover and seemingly everywhere? What could have prompted such an abrupt change in strategy?

“Alright, I apologize. I didn't mean to cast any aspersions on Mark Sloan's memory. But how could he teach you all that skin stuff totally in secret? When did you ever get a chance to practice those procedures?”

Jackson had been waiting for this question. He fervently hoped it would put this line of questioning to rest and possibly score the other Jackson some points in the process.

“Sloan never wanted anyone to know so this stays between us, okay?”

April nodded.

“Sloan and I did pro bono work at Seattle Children's on the sly.” Jackson told her.

April put down her latte and stared at him. He could tell she totally bought it. Sometimes there were advantages to not believing in God; fewer repercussions for lying for example.

 


	11. The Name Means Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While one Jackson continues to make slow progress with April, the other prepares for a big procedure by visiting his mother?
> 
> This is the way the world changes. Good people, raising babies right. -Catherine Avery

“Thanks for the heads-up there, brother.” Jackson greeted Jackson as he stepped from the shower.

“What heads up?” asked this Jackson. He didn't remember giving any warnings to anyone.

“Exactly. So I walk into Hunts room this morning and who do you suppose I run into?”

Uh-oh. “April.”

“Good guess. Yes, April, who was under the impression that I had just left her to go home and change.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Right again. So now I'm tap dancing around why I'm at the hospital AND why I'm on Hunt's case, something she heretofore knew nothing about. Thanks for the heads-up.” Jackson was clearly unhappy at having been put in that position.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? What was our agreement?”

“Always keep each other informed of our whereabouts and April's.”

“So?”

“So, I'll do better next time. I'm kind of a newbie at this covert action stuff.”

“Okay but where have you been? Like all last night for instance?”

This Jackson smiled and began to get dressed.

“Well?” prompted impatient Jackson.

“Well what? I was just doing my part for the cause, like I'm supposed to do.” Jackson with the wet hair replied.

“Yeah, I can see from your face what a sacrifice it was. Did she really bring you home with her?”

“Yup.”

“And you were there all night?”

Jackson's grin answered that question.

“Huh!” the other Jackson sat down on the bed.

“ _Huh_ ? What’s _Huh_?”

“She kicked me out after an hour.”

“Well, it appears she's made her choice then doesn't it?”

“Made her choice? Oh for... listen, there's no choice here. To her we're the same person. Fuck, we ARE the same person. And I'll point out that if not for her obviously enjoying my night with her, she wouldn't have invited you back for an encore.”

“But only one of us made breakfast for her afterwards. And,” Jackson disappeared back into the bathroom for a moment, “only one of us is going back to her tonight.” he finished when he reappeared.

“You realize that could be either of us, right?” Jackson answered, glaring at his double.

That stopped this Jackson dead in his tracks. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Oh I so would, just to shut you up.” that Jackson answered. “Plus, it occurs to me that while your job gets you bed time with April, mine gets me buddy time with Cleveland Exeter.”

“As you yourself pointed out, you’ve gotten laid with April plenty. This is my universe and not yours. But, geez, who names their kid _Cleveland_?”

“A LeBron James fan?”

“Who's he, a pop star from Ohio?” asked this Jackson, who could barely tell a hockey puck from a soccer ball.

That Jackson cast him a disdainful look. “We can't possibly be the same person.” he muttered.

  


By the time the Jackson's had exchanged important details and reviewed their logistical modus operandi, it was time for this Jackson to report to the ER. He had rarely been so eager to get to work.

“What are you going to do while I'm slaving away in the ER?” he asked the other Jackson, who was looking for ESPN on the TV tuner.

“By slaving away in the ER you mean following April around like a lovesick puppy?” replied Jackson.

“That's my job, remember? What's yours again?”

“Just stay on your toes. Things could start to happen any time now. Me, I'm going to review for tomorrow's procedure.”

“Tomorrow, huh?”

“First thing. Now remember, if anyone questions you, tell them you'll be using a thirteen blade motorized Meek dermatome to create postage stamp sized grafts with the goal of tenfold expansion. Then just throw out phrases like _artificial extra-cellular matrix_ and _cultured epithelial autografts_ and you'll either scare them off or bore them to death.”

“Got it. Adios.” Jackson disappeared out the door.

“But stay away from Exeter.” Jackson yelled after him but he had already reached the parking lot.

He sighed. “Yeah, I remember when I fell in love with her too.”

  


Jackson walked into the ER and was immediately waylaid by April, who guided him into a nearby conference room.

“Thought this was against the rules.” he told her with a smile.

She rolled her eyes. “So now you're a comedian along with being a Trauma surgeon and Plastics Jedi? I think I liked you better when you were quiet all the time.”

“You didn't even know I existed.” he pointed out.

“Exactly.” she answered. “So your buddy Exeter requisitioned you out of my ER for Hunt's procedure tomorrow. Are you sure you know what you're doing?”

“Sure as a _cultured epithelial autograft_ seeker.” he responded brightly. Recognizing the baffled expression on her face, he apologized, “Sorry, just a little skin grafting humor.”

April shook her head. “I'm calling Meredith and telling her she's out of her frickin mind to let you do this procedure.”

“April, I got this, okay? Really.”

Where did all this confidence come from all of the sudden, she wondered? He's like a whole different Jackson Avery.

“Alright. But you'd better not F this up or your next Plastics procedure will be a penile reattachment featuring you as the patient. Capiche?”

Ignoring the wave of nausea that possibility induced, he nodded his assent. He did capiche. And he fervently hoped his other from another dimension had as good a game as he claimed.

He about fell over in surprise though when April stepped close, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

In response to his stupefied expression she sighed, “Don't get all emotional. That was just for good luck.., for the procedure.”

“The procedure _tomorrow_ , you mean?”

“In case this is the last chance for it.” she answered ominously. “You've been warned.” She turned and walked out of the room, leaving him shaking his head. The woman was a challenge and a mystery, no question.

  


A couple of hours later she walked by the treatment room where Jackson and Glasses were doing a workup on a patient who presented with what appeared to be a classic and extraordinarily painful case of kidney stones.

“I'm going to lunch. Can you two keep from killing anyone for an hour or so?”

The patient on the table raised his head. “Killing?” he asked before giving in to another wave of pain.

“She's just kidding, Mister Sanford.” Jackson shot her a look and shook his head.

“Sorry.” she mouthed, then exited the ER smiling.

On her way to the cafeteria she happened by the chapel. On a whim, she detoured and entered. As expected, it was empty.

“So, I know we both said and did some things we regret. And I can't really say I'm over being mad at you. But I'm trying. I'm also wondering what you're up to with this guy? I can't decide if he's a gift or punishment. Did you send him to save Owen? Or to kill him? Maybe you can help me out a little with figuring that all out? Would go a long way toward repairing our relationship.” With that she exited and resumed her trek to the cafeteria.

  


Jackson, having caught up on all his favorite sports, powered off the TV. Lifting himself off the couch, he made his way to the kitchen. He wasn't really hungry, it was more restlessness that drove him. After ascertaining that there was nothing in the fridge that interested him, he began checking cabinets. About halfway through the kitchen he happened to look down and a particular envelope on the pile of mail sitting there caught his eye.

“Schneider Residence” he read aloud. “Hmmm.” The envelope seemed to hint at being from some kind of senior citizen place. He hesitated only a moment before opening it. It is addressed to me, he rationalized.

He saw immediately that his guess had been correct. This must be the bill for the other Jackson's mother's care facility. “Wow!” he uttered. The amount was staggering. No wonder he lives in this dump and drives that crappy car. All of his money must go to this place.

Folded into the envelope with the bill was the monthly newsletter the staff must put together. Jackson looked at it. There were a lot of pictures and stories about the holiday celebrations just completed and on the horizon. The place looked really nice. There appeared to be a nice garden to walk in. In some of the pictures the residents were smiling and appeared to be happy. But in one or two, not so much. They had that blank look that you associate with memory loss. One lady in particular looked so old and frail and lost, it tore at his heart. Then he came to the last picture.

It was her, he was sure of it. The pic must have been taken at Valentines Day because he could see the big hearts hung on the wall behind her. She was holding a card close to her chest. Though he couldn't read it he guessed it must be from Jackson. Though she appeared only vaguely like the Catherine Avery he knew as his mother., he found he couldn't tear his eyes away. Finally he looked up and realized he had been holding his breath as well.

How could this be? How could this reality, this Jackson, this Avery family be so different from his own?

Jackson looked at the return address on the envelope. **13045 Military Road South.** He knew enough about memory care to know that visiting dementia and Alzheimer's patients was a hit or miss thing. But he had some time to kill and it was actually a pretty nice day for a ride on the bike. And when it came right down to it, he just really wanted to see his mother.

  


It had been a pretty quiet day all things considered, partly because it was midweek and decent, but not too nice weather, which kept the crowds down who usually flood the outdoors in the Pacific Northwest when rain isn't doing it for them.

The second factor in a quiet day for April was the resumption of the Glasses and Avery show. Once again they seemed intent on swooping in on every intake. The funny thing was that soon, the other interns and residents working the Pit caught on, and it was _gentlemen start your engines_. The rest of the day, competition raged for getting to the ambulances first. Several times April had to dodge behind the nurses station to avoid getting trampled in the crush. She was sure it was only a matter of time before she would have to break up a brouhaha over a contested gurney.

But her shift was come to an end and, after changing in the locker room, she made her way through the ER on her way to her car. Jackson was just finishing up with a patient when she got there. Before she could say anything, the radio squawked to announce an ambulance pulling into the bay with a GSW. “Go!” Jackson ordered Glasses, who's sprint toward the ER doors was cut off by Jo Wilson.

“Don't even think about it.” the Chief Resident told him threateningly, while her intern partner, Casey, rushed through the doors behind her.

April watched with amusement. “See what you've started here? Reminds me of when I was an intern.”

Jackson stood next to her. “When we were interns you mean.”

“No, I don't acknowledge your existence then, remember?”

“How about now?” he asked in a low voice.

“Major rule violation there. Gonna cost you dearly.”

“Damn it. So close to perfection too.” he feigned disappointment.

“So I'm going home to shower and change and have a glass of wine. Then I'll probably cook dinner. That'll be about three hours from now.” April told him as nonchalantly as possible.

“Now that's a coincidence. The Chief of Trauma...”

“Interim Chief of Trauma” she corrected.

“Thank you. The Interim Chief of Trauma has me scheduled to get off in three hours.”

“That is a coincidence.” she replied

“Isn't it? Even more coincidental, I'll be driving right by your place on the way home.”

“Positively freaky.”

“Maybe I'll stop by and join you, you know, since I'll be in the neighborhood.”

“I think that might be violation number two.”

“What?” He knew it was really no use arguing.

“Careful, keep the three strikes rule in mind. You're dangerously close.” she warned him.

Jackson's mouth snapped shut. He didn't remember a three strikes rule. But it sounded bad.

“But..., I was thinking, that since I'm cooking, if you're in the neighborhood, and you want to stop by, you can.” April offered.

Jackson looked at her suspiciously. “If I say _yes_ , is that strike three?”

April pretended to be offended. “Of course not. That would be unfair.”

  


He found the Schneider Residence just a few minutes north of SEATAC. Fortunately, it was far enough back from the water to put it out of the flight path of planes departing the busy international airport so that the beautifully landscaped grounds could be enjoyed without risk of hearing loss.

When one of the staff, supporting an elderly resident along a garden path, waved to him, he knew Jackson must be a regular visitor. That was encouraging. And not at all surprising. He was coming to the realization that this Jackson was, for all his shyness and awkwardness, a pretty standup guy. It made him cringe a bit at parts of the comparison but also gave him hope. But, as always in this case, hope's companion was sadness. Jackson knew the cost of success was almost as high as the cost of failure. But he hadn't shared what he knew about that yet.

Fortunately, adequate signage allowed him to find the reception desk without difficulty, sparing him from having to explain how he had suddenly forgotten the layout of the residence his mother had lived in for the last several years.

“Doctor Avery,” an attractive young woman behind the counter greeted him as soon as he crossed the threshold, “a midweek visit? What a treat! She'll be thrilled.”

“Hi..” he hurried to close the distance between them so he could read her name badge. “Latisha. Yeah, got a night shift later so thought I'd stop by for a quick chat with her.”

“A chat? You're so funny, Doctor Avery.” the young woman answered with a smile.

Fuck! What was he thinking? A _chat_ ? He knew that some advanced Alzheimer's patients lost the ability to speak. He just couldn't imagine that happening to _his_ mother.

Latisha continued, “But you did pick a good day to visit. She's very alert today. I'll bet she'll be happy to see you.”

 _Very alert_ , he thought. Catherine Avery was _very alert_. She couldn't speak, but she was _very alert_. Because it was a _good_ day. A frickin _good_ day. He realized he may have made a huge mistake coming here. Could he handle this? Suddenly a thought flashed through his brain; I wish April was here. She'd know exactly how to keep me upright in this situation. She'd know what to say and do and how to make this work out okay. Jackson, how have you managed this without her?

But when Latisha motioned for him to follow, he did, despite a brief urge to run back to the Harley and flee.

She unlocked a door, leading to a corridor. “It's pretty nice in the garden so if you decide you want to take her out for a walk it'd be fine. Just come back in by the lobby door and I'll let you back into the wing.”

“Great. Thanks, Latisha.”

The residence attendant nodded and closed the door behind him to return to her post. Jackson moved slowly down the hallway until he was sure she was gone, then began checking the names on the doors of every room until he reached the one labeled **Avery**.

He knocked lightly and paused to wait for a response, then cursed himself for it when he again remembered that this Catherine had apparently lost her ability to speak. He slowly and carefully pushed into the room.

The first thing he noticed were the brightly colored walls and fixtures, the second that it was neat as a pin. Then he saw her sitting by the window. She hadn't reacted to his opening the door.

He stepped forward. Then he realized he wasn't sure how to address her. Mom? Mother? Lady Catherine? Okay, he knew it wouldn't be _Lady Catherine_. Why the fuck did he have Game of Thrones in his head?

“Mom?” he had decided.

That seemed to get her attention. She slowly turned to look at him. She smiled, but there was no recognition in it. His heart fractured at that. If I ever get back to my own reality the first thing I'm going to do is find my mother, he promised. But almost immediately he reminded himself that there was another first thing that took precedence over that.

“Hi Mom.” he choked out, forcing a smile onto his stricken face.

She nodded slightly. He reached out and grasped that as her response.

“It's me, Jackson, Mom.” he told her as he crossed the room. He wanted to hug her but was unsure if it would frighten her.

The smile didn't brighten or fade, it just stayed. He guessed that she still didn't recognize him. He had expected as much. It had probably been years since she had been able to recognize her son. Somehow though, accepting that clinically was far easier than in this room, in person. _How do you do it, Jackson?_ he asked again.

They just looked at each other for several moments. Jackson had no earthly idea about what to say to her. Usually his mother filled the silence with whatever scheme or request she had to drive him to the verge of his patience and sanity. So this was entirely new ground.

“You know what? It's actually pretty nice out there today. Latisha said we could go for a walk in the garden if you want to? Do you, want to, I mean?”

He was surprised when her smile wavered a little and she looked back out the window. After several long moments he thought he may have lost her to it but then she turned back to him and gave him that same subtle nod of the head.

Still unsure as to whether that was intentional or not, he again opted for the former and, looking about the room, spotted the walker in the corner. He went to get it and brought it to Catherine, who was reaching for the sweater draped across the arm.

Jackson helped her into her sweater and then she stood up, stronger than he would have expected, and together they slowly made their way through her door and into the corridor. She stopped there, seemingly uncertain as to which way to proceed, so Jackson gently guided her away from the lobby toward the door marked **Gardens** \- **Residents Require Escort**.

Once on the garden path, Catherine seemed to regain some strength and vitality. She began to walk faster and more confidently and Jackson was able to relax his vigilance against her falling. He was glad to see an even bigger smile now plastered on her face.

They walked along in silence. Even if Jackson had known what to say, he figured she wouldn't be able to comprehend it anyway. Instead he just observed her. At one point she saw a bird alight in a nearby tree. She stopped cold to focus her attention on it. After a time Jackson wondered if he should shoo it away so they could continue but right then she looked at him and her smile seemed so thrilled that he decided they could stay there all day if she wanted.

Finally the bird flew off and they continued their stroll. But the smile remained on her face.

They reached a sunny spot where a little bench was placed. Catherine immediately maneuvered herself into position and sat down, raising her face to the sun. Jackson sat beside her.

“I've got a confession to make, Mom. I'm not really your son.”

He checked but, of course, she made no reaction.

“I've gotten to know him a little bit though. You and Rob.., uh, your husband, did a great job with him. I think he might be the best version of us that I've run across so far, and I've seen a lot of us. You see, I'm from some other reality or dimension or universe or something. I really don't know what the technical term for it is. In my universe, the Avery's are rich. I am rich. And you are a famous surgeon. In my reality you love to dance. Did you love to dance here too?”

He checked with her again. She glanced at him then again turned her face to the heavens.

“In my reality, my father deserted you and I when I was just a kid. It's haunted me my whole life. Your Jackson says your husband was a great father.” Jackson looked away. “So, yeah, I think it's your Jackson that's rich. But then he has to deal with this, doesn't he? So maybe I should count my blessings.”

He was surprised to find her looking at him now. Her expression was almost thoughtful.

“I know I should but that's never been my strongest trait. And its cost me, boy how it's cost me. You know, I was married once. I'll bet you would have liked to see your Jackson married. Especially if he had married April. I know it. You and your husband would have been crazy about her, if for no other reason than your son is crazy about her. Because I think he is. Already. I don't know how, as messed up as she is right now, but he's gotten by it somehow. And he needs to be. For us to have any chance at saving her. Of course, the downside... the downside is.. well, let’s not think about that right now.”

Jackson looked back at her. She appeared to be listening intently to him, though he knew that to be impossible.

“Anyway, I was married to April in my reality. Crap were we happy. We had already been friends for a long time. Then we became lovers. And that was it for me. You know, I think I actually fell in love with her long before we slept together. She was my favorite person. That's love right? When someone is your favorite person isn't that like the definition of love? Anyway, you should have been there the day I interrupted her wedding to Matthew and got her to run away with me. We got married the next day in Tahoe and it was frickin amazing. But boy were you pissed. You couldn't believe I had run off and gotten married without you. When you showed up at the hospital you were spitting fire, that's for sure. We almost had a real throwdown right then but then April smoothed it all out. She always does that, you know. Seriously, you would love that girl. Instead of fighting, I ended up telling you she was the One. Of course that was before I knew there were hundreds of realities with their own Aprils. But you know, thinking about it, all those Aprils are still the One. Too bad I've had to learn that the hard way, huh?”

Jackson looked down at his hands and shook his head.

“It all went to shit when our son was born with something called Osteogenesis Imperfecta. He lived for all of five minutes and died in our arms. And we died too. We couldn't help each other and it tore us apart. To this day, I wonder why that was. Why couldn't we help each other? It wasn't because we didn't love each other. I don't know. If you figure it out, let me know.”

Jackson was quiet for a long time. By all appearances, Catherine was waiting patiently for him to continue.

“So we got divorced. There was a whole lot of drama around that. But now I don't think either one of us had recovered from losing Samuel. Samuel was our son that died.” he explained in case she hadn't made the connection.

“Your Jackson thinks I was stupid for letting the divorce happen. Okay, full disclosure, I made the divorce happen. But like I told him, he wasn't there. He didn't have to survive without her when she was gone to Jordan. Twice!”

He looked at her. Her expression was now very serious.

“Oh sure, take his side. Listen, I get that she was hurting. I was too! I needed her. But she was a thousand miles away and half the time I didn't know where or how she was. I even thought I might have lost her. I couldn't stand that. I can't even bear the thought of it. Even now, even after we've been apart so long. I don't know, I want to blame my father for it. You know, taking off and abandoning us, I can't seem to shake the feeling that if I let someone in, I'll pay for it. April got by that somehow but everything that happened ended up reinforcing that feeling, you know? Every time I let myself love someone, it turns to shit. Except you, of course.”

Jackson shook his head again. “But crap it's so hard with her.., April I mean. I loved her so much. Damn it, I love her so much. It's a full time job to protect myself from her. I mean it. Every time I let my guard down for just a moment, she sneaks back in. Every time I just let myself feel, its her I want. That's what happened in Montana. I try to move on. I try to be interested in other women, other women who are _safe_ , you know. Women who I won't be tempted to give every part of me to, but it just doesn't work.”

He rubbed his forehead. “I tell myself it's for her own good, you know. She needs to move on and find someone else. Because, let's face it, I'm frickin toxic for her. The hand we were dealt, she needed some breathing room, then a second chance, but I'm about getting second chances, not giving them.”

“But now, you know, it’s a whole new ballgame. Now she’s in such trouble and she’s alone and I can’t bear the thought that… I can’t bear the thought that… I can’t bear that thought. Because, I’m pretty sure that’s my purpose in life. I’m pretty sure it’s my job to love her no matter what. And I fucked that up. I wasn’t where I was supposed to be and she paid the price.”

Jackson lowered his voice to a near whisper. “But that's why I think I keep jumping. In every universe we lose her. It's been over a hundred times now. I think, if I can just be there for her, just have a second chance at saving her, maybe she'll be okay. Maybe I'll stop jumping. And then I can move on. All of us can move on. Maybe your Jackson is the one. I thought he was the least likely but now I'm not so sure. If he can do it, then maybe I'll get another chance. And then I can move on.”

Catherine pulled her sweater tighter around her as a cloud slid across the face of the sun. The temperature dipped immediately. Jackson noticed.

“Okay, it's getting late. Let's get you back inside.”

Catherine seemed happy to resume their walk and accompanied Jackson back to her room without complaint. Once inside he moved to help her return to her seat beside the window. But she stopped and peered at the pictures on the wall. They were all of Jackson or his father. Jackson looked with special interest at the pictures of Robert with young Jackson. They told the same story as Jackson himself had related to him.

Then he saw a picture of the three of them, with Jackson holding his diploma from UofW. Both his parents were smiling brightly. He could tell they couldn't have been prouder of their son. They had probably scrimped and saved and worked their asses off to help him get there. And now their boy was on his way. He was going to be a doctor.

Jackson did some math in his head. Jackson had said his mother had been diagnosed about ten years ago. This picture hadn't been taken too long before that. Did that smiling woman already have an inkling that something was going terribly wrong with her? She very possibly could have. Probably did have. But whatever fear or anger or doubt that must have given her, was totally eclipsed that day at least. There wasn't a trace of it to be found on her face.

He thought of the pictures his own mother hung in her house. There were quite of few of Jackson, and Richard Webber now appeared a time or two as well, but his mother's walls were now dominated by Harriet.

“Mom, I almost forgot to tell you the best thing. You're a granma! How about that? Would you like to see a picture?”

This nod was noticeably more animated than those before.

Jackson retrieved his wallet and extracted from it a picture of his daughter. He held it out to her. She took it carefully and gazed at it. That smile again lit her face.

“Her name is Harriet, like Tubman”

To his shock he saw her lips moving, though no sound emerged. Was she trying to say something?

“What?” he asked, bringing his ear down right near her lips.

Catherine pointed a gnarled finger at the picture in her hand.

“Spy” she rasped and chortled as Jackson looked at her in amazement.

 


	12. Losing Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April queries Jackson about his beliefs and admits to a little shakiness of her own.  
> The conversation doesn't get any easier when he gets back to the apartment and finds Jackson still awake and asking him a strange question.  
> The following day, Bailey is back and one of the items on her agenda is Jackson Avery. But she ends up with bigger fish to fry when the hospital is hacked. Jackson guides Hunt's skin grafting procedure through rough waters, while the rest of the hospital deals with crisis.  
> Meanwhile, April's personal crisis may get trumped by Jo Wilson's when her abusive ex appears at Grey Sloan.
> 
> I'm a doctor today. -Jackson Avery  
> It's Dr. Sloan's technique. -Jackson Avery  
> Guess the plastics posse is back in action. -Jackson Avery

“Do you believe in God?” she asked him.

He put down his glass of water, hoping he was ready for this conversation. Jackson had hinted that their differing beliefs in this area had caused some major friction, and that was in their marriage before all the trouble began. To have to confront this now, with everything so fragile, caused him great anxiety.

“If you had asked me last week, I probably would have answered unequivocally, no ,I don’t. But now, I’m less sure of what I believe.” He saw the expression on her face and knew what she was thinking. “And, no, it has nothing to do with you.” Well, not the way you are thinking anyway.

“You mean you don’t think you have God to thank for your sitting at my table right now?” Not to mention the opportunity to screw me two nights in a row with a pretty good chance to make it a trifecta tonight.

“No, I think if there was a God, it wouldn’t work that way at all.”

“Interesting. So you've gone from not believing in God to figuring out exactly how he rolls? Amazing! Please enlighten me.”

Jackson ignored her mocking tone and took another sip of his water. “Just a sense that some things, not everything maybe, but some things are just meant to be. Like there’s some kind of blueprint the universe is meant to follow.”

“That’s pretty deep, So where is God in that?”

“Well someone had to think up that blueprint, right? So maybe that’s God, or Yaweh, or Budda, or Santa Claus or something.”

“ Sounds suspiciously like  _ God’s plan _ .”

“Yeah, maybe. That’s what you believe, right?”

“I did. But now, I’m not so sure. It’s hard for me to reconcile God with a plan that allows so much bad shit to happen to good people.”

Jackson looked at her carefully. “That’s always been the problem, right?”

“Yes, but lately it’s really hitting home for me, I guess.”

“I get that. My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's ten years ago, My father died of cancer three years later. If I had believed in God I sure would have been pissed at him.”

He saw the compassion in April’s expression.

“But, here’s the thing. I had a great father for all my life up to then. I could just as easily have had a life where my father abandoned me as a child. Think how messed up that may have left me. Nope, my father dying of cancer was crappy and he didn’t deserve to die that way. But I sure wouldn’t trade with another Jackson who never had a father at all.”

April considered his words. “So you’re saying you can’t have the highs without the lows? And surviving the lows is about appreciating the highs, counting your blessings?”

“Well things can always get worse. And there are always valleys between the peaks. Besides, isn’t your thing that this is all just a blip compared to eternity anyway? So why sweat the small stuff if you have an eternity of happiness ahead of you?”

April didn’t answer him. She would have to digest this. It pissed her off a little that an avowed non-believer would have a healthier perspective on Gods plan than she did at the moment. It pissed her off even more that he had yet again denied her a reason to send him away.

  
  


It was just after midnight when Jackson slipped into his apartment. It had pained him greatly to leave April’s bed but, with a critical procedure to perform in the morning, it would not have worked to have him spend the night. It would have worked even less well to try and explain that he wasn’t actually the Jackson performing it. So he had no choice but to get up, get dressed, and depart. If something didn't go well tomorrow, the last thing they needed was April blaming herself for exhausting him on the eve of the surgery.

It surprised him greatly when the light came on and he discovered that his other self, instead of getting that good night's sleep, was sitting on the couch in the dark.

“Geez!” Jackson recoiled. “What the hell are you doing awake? You should be sleeping.”

“Tried. Just can't seem to get there yet.” the other Jackson answered, rubbing his beard.

“Well, you have to. Things have to go well tomorrow or we're screwed, and not in the good way.” Jackson came and sat beside his counterpart on the couch. “You're worried about the procedure, aren't you? You biting off more than you can chew?”

“No, I'm good with that. I've done this sort of thing several times, and even though Hunt's burns are pretty extensive, this isn't the worst case I've had.” Jackson answered.

“What then?” asked this Jackson. “April? I think we're making good progress. The biggest danger to her in the ER right now is getting bored to death. And I think I might be breaking down some of her defenses too. We had an interesting conversation tonight about God's plan. She might be close to opening up and letting me in so I can help her.”

“Thought she was already letting you in, pretty regularly in fact?”

Jackson gave his companion a little side-eye, “You know what I mean. Like you said, that's actually more a symptom of the problem than it is a step toward the solution.”

That Jackson nodded, “It's not April, I know you're doing well there.” Then he caught this Jackson off guard with a question that seemed totally off topic and out of left field. “If something happened to you, what would become of your mother?”

“What?” asked a puzzled Jackson. “My mother?”

“Yeah, you said you had her in a facility. Those cost a lot. You're not rich in this reality. What would happen to her if something happened to you?”

“ What kind of  _ something _ ?”

“Anything. You got hit by a bus or stepped into a manhole, something bad that kept you from making the payments, what would happen?”

“Uh, I have a little life insurance if that's what you mean?”

“A little?”

“Yeah, what the hospital provides.”

“You do realize that's crap, right? How long would she be able to stay where she is with that?”

“I don't know, a year, maybe, maybe a bit more.”

“And then she's out, with no one to look after her.”

“Well, she has her social security.” Jackson ventured. This was the strangest conversation. And an uncomfortable one. He had never considered how thin his mother's safety net was. He had just assumed that he could manage month to month until his student loans were finally paid off then he could start building a cushion. Dying young wasn't in his plans.

“Social security.” Jackson scoffed. “Yeah, that will take her far.”

“So what's with the questions about my mother?” Jackson asked.

“We'll need to adjust the plan a little.” Jackson answered.

And this Jackson had the first inkling that his self from another reality maybe hadn't told him everything.

 

Now it was this Jackson's turn to find it hard to sleep. He tossed and turned, but sleep eluded him. What the hell had that been about? Why the sudden concern about his mother of all people? Adjust the plan? How? Why? And what was that about something happening to him? Like a fatal kind of something?

The other Jackson hadn't wanted to get any further into it tonight, invoking Owen's procedure as his excuse for terminating the conversation, but he had certainly said enough to twist this Jackson up in knots. Damn! Good thing I only have to hide out here tomorrow. But what the fuck?

 

Jackson followed Exeter into the scrub room and was surprised to find Meredith already scrubbing.

“I didn't know you'd be joining us today.” he addressed her.

“You didn't seriously think I'd let you just freelance this thing without any oversight, did you?” she replied. “No offense, Cleveland.”

Exeter just waved it away, none taken. _Moron_ thought Grey.

“And if you decide I'm botching it?” Jackson asked.

“I'll shut it down, do the best I can to repair the damage, and make sure your ass never practices medicine again.”

“Nice. Bailey good with all that?”

“Bailey thinks I'm insane to let you anywhere near Owen Hunt. And she's probably right. But she's just Chief, I own this fucking hospital. Just don't fuck this up and I won't have to take your balls.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” he answered.

“Fuck you.” she replied, “No trophies for participation, Avery. Now let's get this done.”

 

April was surprised to see Bailey walk into the ER.

“Chief! You feeling better? Here for Hunt's procedure?”

“I'm here because I have a hospital to run. And, yes, I am feeling a little better. But not so well as to want to deal with a lot of problems, so don't make any for me.”

“Great to have you back.” April muttered to her retreating form.

April was a little surprised that Bailey was so out of sorts. Word around the hospital was that Richard Webber had finally begun to recover. Rumor had it that Heather Knox had gone against orders and administered a feeding tube. She had incurred the considerable wrath of Meredith Grey for her actions but it had seemingly jump started Webber's will to live and he had already improved noticeably. That alone should have ensured a happy Miranda Bailey but maybe she had other things on her mind.

 

Bailey did have other things on her mind. She was furious that Meredith Grey had let herself be talked into letting Jackson Avery, of all people, assist on Owen Hunt’s skin grafting procedure. With sixty percent of his body suffering second and third degree burns, Bailey would have preferred either bringing in a skin specialist or even transferring Hunt to a burn center.

Meredith had argued against the transfer to another facility. She felt it would reflect badly on Grey Sloan that they lacked the expertise to treat one of their own. And, against Meredith’s own strong prejudice, Avery had convinced her he could do this. Exeter was obviously convinced as well. So Meredith was rolling the dice, Bailey’s dice, the Chief of Surgery reflected, and she wasn’t thrilled about it.

But Miranda Bailey had a number of other things on her plate today too, Being out sick for several days had created a backlog that would take weeks to work through. That disaster of a storm and the high death toll associated with it had already generated a number of calls from their corporate co-owners as well as the hospital’s auditors. And there were some rumbles in the press about lawsuits as well. 

In addition, she was down two surgeons, including her head of Trauma, though she counted herself fortunate that she had April Kepner to turn to for that role. She thanked her lucky stars Kepner hadn’t been stolen away already. If Hunt never makes it back, Grey Sloan trauma will remain in good hands. And the reports she had received from the ER the last few days seemed to confirm that. 

They had also served to remind her of the curious case of Jackson Avery. As if his sudden emergence as a skin graft specialist wasn’t bizarre enough, now she was to understand that Kepner had him literally leading the charge down in the Pit? And, though dulled slightly by fever that day, she clearly remembered the work he had done on the little girl from the bus. He might have well as stitched Mark Sloan’s name on the child. But how could that possibly be? Any one of these alone was highly improbable. Taken together, they defied possibility. On top of these medical mysteries, no one seemed to be able to explain how Jackson Avery just happened to be poking around the generators in time to discover and save Richard Webber’s life. 

Bailey detested things in her hospital that she couldn’t explain. Amid all the other things on her list, getting to the bottom of that mystery definitely had its place. No, Miranda Bailey was not in a good mood. Moments later it would get much, much worse.

 

“Crash cart.” April called. The patient in Trauma Two had suddenly flatlined, her monitor screamed. The cart arrived the same time she did. “Charge to two hundred.” She readied the paddles. Suddenly another monitor alarm sounded. April paused.

“Trauma four needs a cart.” Intern Sam called.

A third monitor alarm sounded behind April. Now Trauma One? Something is not right. Trauma Three followed shortly thereafter. But the patient in Trauma Three was awake and talking to DeLuca. That is definitely not right. What the fuck was happening?

But Sam was already applying the paddles and called “Clear.”

A half second too late April yelled “No!”

The man in Four sat up and screamed at the intern. “Fuck! I was asleep!”

April looked around the ER. Now every single monitor was showing a flat line. The patient on the bed in front of her in Two looked up at her and the paddles in her hands. “I'm already awake, dear.”

 

In the OR, the anesthesiologist called out, “BP is dropping.”

Jackson looked up from where he was harvesting his tiny micrografts. “What? He's in an induced coma and we're not cutting any blood vessels.”

“We're losing him. Pulse is dropping. He's hypotensive.” the anesthesiologist advised.

“Bullshit. We're not doing anything that would cause that. We've barely begun to remove skin from the donor site. Something else is going on.”

“Reaction to the thiopental?” Exeter asked. This was the drug used to induce Hunt's coma.

“Why now though?” Jackson asked. This made no sense.

“Avery, you're losing him.” Meredith called. “Get out of the way!” She stepped forward, intending to take over and begin lifesaving measures.

“No, wait.” Jackson called aloud. The monitor showed a flatline.

“Avery...” Meredith angrily shouted.

“Look at his chest.” Jackson calmly replied. All action stopped as everyone in the OR fixed their gaze on Hunt's chest. It was still rising and falling evenly.

“He's still using oxygen.” confirmed the anesthesiologist.

Meredith was puzzled. “Then what...”

“Monitor's gone wonky.” answered Jackson. “Let's get another one in here, stat, and lets get back to work.” He again took his position behind the eyepiece of the dermatome and returned to harvesting his tiny micrografts.

 

All over the hospital systems began acting strangely for failing altogether. Finally, the cause became clear. “ **Hello Grey Sloan Memorial...”**

For the moment at least, Jackson Avery was off Miranda Bailey's radar.

  
  


It was Glasses that brought the bad news to the OR.

“Everything? They have everything?” Meredith asked.

“Yes, every computerized and networked device is under their control. And that includes the door locks and heating and cooling, so no blood or meds. Bailey is working with the FBI right now to see if they can get control back but it doesn’t look good.”

“So we lose the monitors but that’s it, right? We shouldn’t need blood or meds.” Exeter said.

“Unless something goes wrong.” Meredith pointedly remarked, staring at Jackson.

Jackson looked around the ER,  checking off things in his mind. “Fuck!” He exclaimed. He took control of the dermatome and backed the device away from Hunt.

“What? Are we aborting?” Meredith demanded.

“No, but the dermatome is computer assisted. We can’t take the chance that we lose control of it while it’s engaged with Hunt.”

“Then we are aborting?”

“No, we’re not.” Jackson replied. “We’re just going to go old school. Ten blade.” He ordered the scrub nurse assisting. “And kindly give one to my friend, Doctor Grey too.”

 

All over the hospital, _Old School_ became the theme of the day. In the ER, April gave the residents and interns a crash course on battlefield techniques Hunt had taught her and wished Richard Webber was healthy and present. In the Pediatric wing, Arizona was trying to recall her experience in Malawi and wondering if the pediatric monitors were going to fail again as they had during the recent storm.

“Take a paper chart. Make sure your pens work. Everything gets written down.” In pained April to do this. She was a medtech groupie to her very core.

“What are we using for monitors, though?” asked Sam.

“You are our monitors now, people. Rotate through your patients and take, and retake, heartrate, blood pressure and keep track on paper. Notify me of changes. All right everyone, let's get to it.” she called. “Back to the stone age.” she muttered quietly once they had all dispersed.

 

“I need to know if Frankie Baner got his vitamin K last night?” Karev asked.

“I wasn't working last night.” replied the nurse.

“Who was?”

“I don't know. It's in the rec...”

“Records, I know. I need to know if I should put him under heparin or not because if he doesn't need it, it could cause a brain bleed”.

“And if he does need it and doesn't get it, we're talking about a possible stroke.” Amelia added. “You don't know who was on this morning?”

“I don't.”

“Doc McStuffins was on!” Jo cried triumphantly as she came out of the patient's room.

“Who?” asked Karev.

“She's not a real doctor.” answered Amelia.

“Frankie says he got an injection but he can't remember from who but he was watching Doc McStuffins. His mom says it's on at six AM so who...?”

The nurse considered. “At six..? Karen! She's on the twelve hour split. Uh, she was heading to L and D.”

“Call L and D.” ordered Karev.

“No phone.” Amelia reminded him.

“Got it.” said Jo. “I'm going.”

  
  


“I'm almost done with this quadrant. How are you doing?” Jackson asked.

“Slow going. I'm not used to making such shallow cuts.” Grey answered.

“It's fine to go slow. We're not racing the clock here. It's critical the grafts be the right size and depth.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just wish I hadn't had that second cup of coffee this morning.”

That was when the lights went out.

“Motherfu..”

“Uh, Meredith, lets cool it with the swearing please.” Jackson reminded her. Grey Sloan was pretty laid back about most things but this procedure had drawn a fair amount of viewers up to the gallery.

“Why, they can't see or hear me now.”

“Good point. Isn't there supposed to be some emergency lighting coming on?”

“Except the computer that's supposed to turn them on is probably what turned them off in the first place.”

“Another good point.”

Finally, a few dim emergency lights came on, illuminating the room enough to allow movement but not nearly enough to finish the skin grafting.

“Now what? We'll lose all these freshly harvested micrografts if we stop now.” Meredith pointed out.

“So we don't..., stop that is. We just need enough light to place the grafts in the burn area.”

“Isn't that the difficult part?”

“Not with this procedure. By using thin micrografts, we can place them without worrying about their dermal orientation. So if we can get enough light to place them correctly, we should be able to come pretty close to our goals for the day. Then we can come back and finish the job once the hospital is back to normal.”

“So this ends up being the perfect call for today.” Meredith said to Jackson.

“As long as we can find some lighting.”

“I'm impressed, Jackson. Almost seems like you knew what was coming.”

“Better to be lucky than good sometimes, Meredith.” he answered.

“Better to be both.” she answered back. “Find us some lights.” she called to the theater nurse.

 

Jo was able to locate nurse Karen but, much to her dismay, Karen had been preoccupied and had not been the nurse who administered to Frankie Baner that morning. Instead she had asked a colleague to do it.

“Who? Who did you ask to do it?”

“Taylor.” replied Karen.

“Girl Taylor or boy Taylor?”

“Boy Taylor.” Karen answered.

Jo Wilson took off running. Time was growing short and she needed to find the male nurse Taylor pronto.

 

Bailey left the conference room which the FBI had made their base of operations and made her way to the ER. She arrived to find the situation growing critical.

“Chief, we can't get blood or meds and we are out of everything.” April called to her as she entered. Kepner was doing everything she could to control the bleeding of her MVC patient.

Bailey looked around the room and saw that every bed, every gurney, every treatment room was packed. Even so, paramedics were wheeling in another patient. The situation had grown critical.

 

Caught up on _Stranger Things_ , Jackson decided to make use of his unplanned day off by cleaning things up a little around the apartment. In the process he ran across the envelope for his mother's residential care facility. It was the only opened mail in that pile and Jackson was pretty sure he hadn't been the one to open it.

There was only one other possibility.

Was there a connection between this open envelope and the bizarre conversation they'd had in the early morning hours? Too coincidental for there not to be.

Clearly, there were things going on that he wasn't aware of. But how could his mother be involved? This bizarre scenario was even murkier than he thought.

 

Jo caught up with her quarry just outside the entrance to the hospital.

Fortunately nurse Taylor did remember Frankie Baner. And, no, he had not been reversed from his anti-coagulant. Given Heparin, he would almost certainly bleed out.

Trying to keep her panic under control, Jo sprinted back into the hospital, trying to call Alex as she ran. But the call would not go through. Desperate, she began composing a text message in the elevator.

The elevator door opened and she emerged, about to hit **Send** , when she was stopped dead in her tracks.

“Hey Brooke.”

 


	13. I May Be Alone, But You Aren't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of the hacker chaos, Paul Stadler shows up at Grey Sloan. But even in the depths of her own crisis, April Kepner will come to the aid of a friend in need.  
> Meanwhile one Jackson is channeling Mark Sloan brilliance, and raising some suspicions, while the other decides to try something new, with near disastrous result.  
> And a chat with a friend over drinks becomes a sobering experience. 
> 
> If I see her crying or bleeding, I'll come for you. - April Kepner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies. A business trip kept me from updating. But I think I know where I want to go with this now so the next update should be pretty quick. Hope that's a good thing. :-)

April looked up from the paper chart she was updating. She could just see the elevators where Jo Wilson was standing with a man and a woman she did not recognize. The man was doing all the talking, the woman at his side smiling and nodding as her gaze wandered back and forth between him and Jo. Wilson, though, looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

April recognized that look. It mirrored a bit of what she had been feeling the last week or so. What she didn’t understand was why Wilson had that look on her face right then. But some instinct told her it had to do with the man in front of her.

She put down the chart and the pen and began to walk toward Jo. Wilson was one of hers and she protected hers at all costs.

She saw Arizona pop out of the elevator next to Jo. April was close enough by then to start catching words being spoken.

“Are you…, are you Paul Stadler?”

“Yes.” answered the man, apparently Paul Stadler.

“Oh wow, I am such a huge fan. Your paper on minimally invasive surgical procedures was life changing for me.” Arizona was positively gushing. She stuck out her hand. “Doctor Arizona Robbins, fetal surgeon.”

April heard Arizona but her eyes were locked on Jo Wilson’s face, which was frozen in an expression that April could only characterize as pure terror and helplessness.

Arizona, seemingly oblivious, turned to Jo. “Are you fan girling here?” she asked the Chief Resident.

Turning back to Stadler, Arizona continued, “Your paper on introducing multi-mode index fibers for scopes was revolutionary.”

Stadler pointed toward Jo. “Well she should know it, I mean she was my student when I wrote it. Though I’m not sure how much she remembers. She was quite the partier back then.”

“Well, I’d like to pick your brain later, when it’s not so crazy. Um, Wilson, I can’t believe that you studied under Paul Stadler. Way to keep a secret.” Arizona left to go on her way.

April knew Wilson hadn’t said a word since stepping off the elevator and now wondered if she’d even been breathing either.

“So… you haven’t been talking about me. I guess I should be grateful for that.” He looked around. “Is there someplace quiet we can talk? Maybe sign those papers, catch up?”

Upon hearing that, April’s protection instinct went into overdrive. The look on Jo’s face told her that the last thing Wilson wanted was to be alone with this man. So April was going to make sure that wasn’t going to happen.

“Wilson, glad to have you back. Excuse me, but Doctor Wilson is needed in the ER.” April gently but firmly grabbed Jo’s elbow and began to lead her away.

“Okay,” Stadler called after her, “we can talk later. I’ll find you.”

Bailey passed April and Wilson going in the other direction and heard her say. “Aren’t you Paul Stadler?”

“Wilson, do you need help?” April asked her quietly.

Jo tore her gaze away from her ex-husband. “Doctor Kepner, that's … that's..”

But before she could go any further, Intern Taryn appeared in front of them. “Doctor Wilson, Doctor Karev sent me to look for you.”

“Oh crap.” cried Jo, looking down at the unsent text on her phone. “Doctor Kepner, I have to go.”

“Okay, go, but if you need me..”

“I'll come find you later.” Wilson promised gratefully before running off with Taryn.

More crap, April thought, just when I was starting to think maybe I was wrong. That reminded her. I wonder how Jackson.., she corrected herself, Owen, is doing?

  


“Last one.” Meredith handed the tray to Jackson.

“Okay, I know just where I want to place this little guy.” He carefully picked it up with the forceps and deftly placed it in the burn area on Hunt's lower back.

“Now what?” Meredith asked.

“Now we maintain the grafts in place with a special dressing that also encourages expansion and then evaluate him again in a week or so. We may have to do some additional micro grafting but maybe not. We have pretty good coverage and unless we’re very unlucky with graft morbidity we may just be done.”

“Really?”

“Really. There is one area..., here..., where I may be tempted to do a larger, full thickness graft but let's give the micros a chance first.”

“Exeter?”

“Agreed.” responded the Plastics fellow. Shocker, thought Meredith.

“Okay, then let's finish up here. I've got another patient with burns I'd like you to take a look at after we're done here.”

“Of course.” answered Exeter.

“I'm sorry, Cleveland, I was talking to Doctor Avery.”

  


Jo Wilson returned to the ER and was about to ask April if she had a minute to talk when she spotted Stadler working on a patient in Trauma Four.

“What is he doing here?” she asked.

April looked over at him in disgust. “Bailey asked him to pitch in. Apparently he's some famous guy?”

“Famous, yeah.” Jo answered weakly.

April could see she was affected just being in the same room as Doctor Stadler.

“You done with Karev? Jo?”

“Huh? What?” Jo came back to her.

“I said, are you all squared away with Karev?”

“Yes, yes, he sent me back here.”

“Okay, then let me finish up here and then you and I will find someplace quiet to talk. Okay?”

“Okay.” Jo answered simply, never taking her eyes off of Paul Stadler.

  


Jackson paced the floor of the apartment restlessly. He did not like sitting out the day today one bit. He didn't like not knowing what was going on at Grey Sloan. He didn't like the fact that the other Jackson was there impersonating him. He especially didn't like that he wasn't there, near April, able to watch over her.

But he was stuck wasn't he? Even if he wanted to take a chance and drive by the hospital, he couldn't. The other Jackson had taken his car so as to not arouse suspicions.

Jackson looked at the helmet sitting on the end table. He noticed the gloves tucked into it. He noticed the key glittering between them.

He had never ridden a motorcycle. But how hard could it be? He was a surgeon after all.

  


April put her face in her hands. The story Jo Wilson had just related was an order of magnitude worse than she had anticipated.

“And you've been hiding from this asshole all this time?”

“Yes.”

“Who else knows?”

“Just Alex and Meredith.”

“No one else?”

“No. And I'm afraid if Alex finds out he's here in the hospital, he'll kill him.”

“Very likely.” April shook her head. What a mess. “So what do you want to do?”

“I'd like to kill him myself, but I'll settle for seeing him disappear forever.”

“And you think signing the divorce papers will make that happen?”

“The girl he's with, Jenny? He introduced her as his fiancée. So, yeah, I think if I sign the papers he'll go away.”

“Alright, then this is what we'll do. You and I will find a conference room and we'll get all the papers signed. Then we'll ask him to leave and hopefully you'll never see his sorry abusive self again. Okay?”

“Okay.” Jo answered. They stood up and April was almost to the door when Wilson added, “Doctor Kepner, thank you.”

April nodded. Thanks God, another mess you couldn’t be bothered to prevent. Thanks for all the help. Guess we’ll just muddle through it without you.

  


When Jackson regained consciousness he realized he was strapped to a gurney. When he heard the wail of a siren, he realized he was in the back of an ambulance. For a moment he couldn't figure out why he would be on a gurney in an ambulance. Then it came flooding back to him. He had managed to drive the Harley through a fence and into the side of a tattoo parlor. And it had hurt.

He assessed the damage. Big headache. Probably concussed. Sore right knee and right shoulder. He didn't think anything was broken. He ran his tongue over his lip and winced. His lower lip was pretty busted up. He tasted blood. Likely need a few stitches. Maybe I can get Jackson to do his magic instead of that hack, Exeter, he mused.

He went rigid. Holy crap! His brain must really be scrambled. He saw the paramedic reading a manga comic book. **Vampire Knight Vol.1** Good one, thought Jackson. He'd seen the anime version on Netflix. Both seasons. So he was looking forward to reading it. Damn it! Come on, Avery, focus.

“Hey.” he said. The paramedic looked up. “Where are you taking me?” Jackson asked.

“The hospital, sir. Just relax. You had a nasty little accident but we're taking care of you and will have you with a doctor in no time.”

Dude, I was unconscious until fifteen seconds ago and you're frickin reading a comic book. That is not taking good care of me. But Jackson kept those thoughts in his own scrambled brain. Instead he asked, “Which hospital?”

“The closest one, sir, Grey Sloan Memorial.”

“No. Not Grey Sloan. Please, how about Seattle Pres?” begged Jackson through the throbbing in his head.

“Too late sir, we’re here.”

Jackson felt the rig come to a stop and anticipated his life was moments away from doing likewise. Even with a clear head he wouldn't be able to explain this.

The doors flew open and the paramedic put down his comic and stood up.

“What do you have?” Jackson heard a voice. Glasses, he thought. Maybe he could talk his way out of this somehow with Glasses?

“MVC, motorcycle vs fence and tattoo parlor.” replied the paramedic, reaching out with his foot to release the gurney lock.

Then Jackson heard another voice, “Tattoo parlor? Did he think it was a drive thru?”, and all hope fled. April. He was so fucked.

The paramedic laughed. “No, but he did get a nice little jolt, probable concussion, and he was out cold until a few minutes ago.”

“Head injury? Whoa, stop right there.” ordered April. “That means he'll need a head CT, stat. Right now the line for that takes up a whole corridor. Are his vitals stable? Does he appear to be in immediate danger of dying?”

The paramedic looked down at Jackson. “Nope, doesn't appear to be.”

“Then take him to Seattle Pres. They are better able to care for him than we are right now. In fact, put the word out, we are closed to new intake. They better be moments from death if you bring em here.””

“Ten-four doc. Just need you to sign off on it.”

The doors closed again and the rig lurched into motion. Jackson breathed a sigh of relief, wincing when it made his head throb. Now, all I have to do is explain this to the other Jackson.

  


“We got em, sir. Estonia.”

“Of course. Can't touch them there. Alright, roll up the forensics and initiate countermeasures.” The FBI SAIC ordered. “We're about to take your hospital back.” he informed Bailey.

It's about time, she thought. If Casey the intern hadn't revealed his hacking background to her and then figured out how to get into the meds and blood supply, they'd have had a disaster on their hands. “How exactly will you do that?” Bailey asked.

“Basically, we're going to take down the servers they are using to launch their attack. If we're lucky, they won't notice that we're owning them until we've had a chance to observe more of their operations.”

“And when they do notice?”

“They disappear.”

“And don't come back?”

The FBI agent laughed. “Oh yeah, they'll be back. They'll pop up again. But they won't come back here. They'll go after another target where they have a better chance of getting paid. Still, I'd recommend a security audit and some awareness training for all your people. We've traced this attack to a phishing email that one of your people responded to.”

“One of my doctors? One of my doctors did this?”

“Or staff. It happens all the time. Very difficult to spot this stuff. One bad click and the next thing you know the thermostat is set to ninety and all your patient data is in Russia. We'll prepare a full report with recommendations.”

Bailey thought her fever might be coming back, the way her head hurt.

  


In the ER, the monitors coming to life was met with a cheer.

“Ready for this?” April asked Jo.

“Let's get it over with.” Wilson agreed.

“Okay, wait in the conference room.”

April waited until Stadler had finished up with the patient he was with. “Doctor Stadler, Jo Wilson is asking for you. Kindly bring the divorce papers.”

“Sure, Doctor Kepner. May I call you April?”

“No, I prefer Doctor Kepner with you. Right this way.”

He followed her into the conference room and found Jo waiting for him.

“If you wouldn't mind Doctor Kepner, I'd like to have a moment alone with...,”

“Actually, I do mind. I'm going to stay here.” April promptly took a seat next to Jo, forcing Stadler to the other side of the table.

Stadler obviously did not appreciate this development. “Okay then.” he sat down opposite Jo, who remained quiet although her expression spoke volumes about how she felt about the man.

“Let's get this done, shall we?” Grabbing the pen from in front of Jo, he signed the paper, looking at her the whole time. He slid the papers across the table and extended the pen toward her.

She snatched the pen from his hand and hastily scribbled her name as well.

Stadler reached for the folder but April was too quick for him. Snatching the folder herself, she told him “We've got it. It'll be faster this way.”

Stadler looked at the two women and April could tell his anger was seething just below the surface. He was very well practiced at controlling and concealing himself. But he couldn't resist taking one final shot at his soon to be ex-wife.

“I'm really happy for you, Jo.” he said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “I hope this brings you some real peace. You deserve it. We both do.”

That pushed Jo over the edge. She had told herself that she would just remain silent and get this over with as quickly as possible so she could get on with her life without him in it. But this? She refused to be victimized again.

“You don't deserve anything good.” He paused at the doorway. “You're a monster.” she declared.

He looked back at her over his shoulder as he exited the room and April could see his strained smile as he struggled to maintain a civil facade.

April sat back down next to Jo. “You did great. And it's over.”

But Jo was watching through the window as Stadler collected his fiancée and they made their way toward the elevator.

“No, no, it’s not.” Wilson replied. “He's going to do the same thing to her.”

“Are you sure?” April asked, though she knew Wilson was right.

“Yes. We have to warn her about him. She has to know what he'll do to her.”

“Okay, if you're sure. I've got an idea.” she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

  


“Hey, Doctor Stadler, where are you going?” Arizona had caught them just in front of the elevator.

“Actually on our way out.” he replied shortly.

“Oh no, no, you can't leave. I have a problem with a new fetal scope and it's got me banging my head against the wall and I know that there's an answer but I'm just, it's way out of my reach. It'd be great if I could just get some manpower you know. I need you.”

Stadler sighed. “Ten minutes.”

“Fantastic, this way.”

“Wait here.” he told his fiancée.

April kept a lookout while Jo did her best to warn Jenny about Stadler.

When Robbins called to warn that he was on his way back, April intercepted him with an empty gurney and was able to delay him just enough to give Jo time to disappear.

Jo, April and Arizona watched Stadler and Jenny walk out the door.

“Do you think she believed you?” April asked Jo.

“Yes, she believed me.” Jo answered. “But that doesn't mean she will find the courage to do anything about it.”

“Before it's too late, you mean.” April added.

“Before it's too late.” Jo agreed.

  


April and Jo were almost back to the ER when he appeared in front of them, Jenny at his side looking guilty and embarrassed.

“So glad you and Jenny had the chance to talk. She told me all about it. You don't worry about her.”

Jo looked at the woman and saw how fearful she was. She could relate. “She didn't say anything. It was me. It was all me.”

“It was always you.” Stadler answered, stepping toward Jo menacingly.

“Walk away Doctor Stadler.” April said, imposing herself between them.

He wagged a finger in her face. “She's a liar. She's pathological. What kind of woman changes her name and disappears on her husband without a word?”

The petite trauma surgeon show no signs of letting herself be intimidated. “The kind of woman who's being abused by her husband.” she answered. Yeah, asshole, I want to go.

Stadler growled and then looked over her head at Jo. “You know what that did to me? To my reputation? To my career? You are torture. You are hell. You walk around and you ruin lives and no one ever stops you. They just believe you cuz why, because you're pretty, cuz you're sweet? Your looks will fade one day Brooke. Your looks will fade and you'll be left with the truth. You point fingers at everyone else around you but you are the monster.”

“Back off!” April told him fiercely. “I’m calling security right now.”

Stadler stopped his tirade. He stepped back to where Jenny stood and waved the card that Jo had given her with her phone number on it. “You know what? Jenny won't be needing this. But that said, I think I'll hold onto it... so I know where to find you.” With that he gave them a final threatening smile, and guided Jenny away.

“Are you okay?” April asked Jo, who was shaking where she stood.

“I don't know.” Wilson answered.

“Is Alex off yet?”

“No, not for a few hours.”

“Okay, I don't think you should be alone. Let's you and I go get a drink. I'm guessing you could use one and I know for a fact I can.” April told her.

“But aren't you still on?” Wilson asked.

“Technically, but since I'm Chief of Trauma, I guess I can let myself off early, can't I?” April replied.

Jo nodded and managed a smile through the pain etched on her face.

“Let's go.” April told her.

April and Jo changed in the lockers and were just exiting through the ER when they ran into Jackson.

“Hey, how did it go?” April asked him.

“Good, really good.” he answered.

“What, no machines going all Terminator on you?”

Terminator? Man, this April is a really good match for this Jackson.

“No, no robots running amok in the OR. Unless of course, Meredith is a robot.”

“Meredith? Wow, on a first name basis with the Queen Bee, huh?”

“Should be. Just spent an entire day with her hovering around just waiting for me to mess up so she could castrate me.” he answered.

“Uh oh, she didn't, did she? I'd hate to think I already have to replace you. You're barely trained enough to be housebroken.”

“Yeah, funny. Speaking of which...”

April stepped close and brought her voice down low. “Yeah, about tonight. I think we'll need a breather.”

Aw crap, one day and he'd somehow managed to stall his other self's momentum. But how?

April was able to read the disappointment and concern in his face. Damn, I told him not to invest too deeply in this. But part of her was a little bit pleased, not that she'd admit to that.

“Listen, it's not that. It's not you. I just need to spend some time with Wilson. She's had a really rough day and needs some drinking company until Alex gets off shift.” April explained.

Jackson could see Wilson standing by the door of the ER. It was obvious she was wrung out. Typical of April to ride to the rescue of a wounded animal. “Okay, sure. That's cool. I'll see you tomorrow then?”

“Early, if not bright.” she replied. She caught herself just as she was about to rise up and kiss him in front of the whole ER. What are you doing, Kepner, she chided herself? Get a fucking grip. But she couldn't quite suppress the little smile that formed as she walked away from him.

He watched her go, wondering what in the world could have shaken Wilson up so badly.

It wasn't until they were halfway through the first round at Joes that April thought to puzzle over how Jackson had been able to grow such a full beard over such a short period of time. She'd have to remember to ask him about that tomorrow.

  


“Avery was flawless in there today. No computer, no problem. Can't use my fancy thirteen blade instruments, no sweat, let's do _old school_. Old school.” Meredith scoffed. “And his choice of procedures just happened to fit perfectly for what happened today. Maybe he’s the one who hacked the hospital.”

“Don't even joke about that.” Bailey shook her head. “This may have been a walk in the park for Avery but it was a day in hell for the rest of us.”

“Well, maybe it WAS hell here today. I feel like I spent the day with Mark Sloan, minus the immaturity.”

“What did you say?” Bailey asked with a start.

“I said I must have been in hell because it felt like I was standing next to Sloan all day.”

Suddenly a blip named Jackson Avery was once again prominently lighting up Bailey's radar.

  


Coincidently, a blip with that name actually attached to it was traveling across the monitor at Seattle Pres.

“Okay, Doctor Avery, the CT Scan came back with good news. There does not appear to be any bruising, bleeding, or swelling that would indicate a serious head injury. The bad news, of course, is that we are still sure you suffered a pretty good concussion so you won't be getting back on the motorcycle any time soon.”

“Can I get that in writing please?”

The doctor gave him a puzzled look, not understanding that Jackson had decided his one and only attempt to ride a motorcycle was also his last one. Besides, he guessed the Harley was no longer in any condition to operate.

“So, who can we call for you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, we can't let you just walk out of here. Who can we call to come and get you?”

“Uh, I suppose I can call my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes, my twin brother..., Randall.”

An hour later, the curtain at the foot of his bed parted and Jackson Avery found himself looking at Jackson Avery.

“Okay, I can explain.”

“Oh, I can hardly wait.”

Just then the ER doctor slipped inside the curtain. He stuck out his hand toward Jackson. “You must be Randall.”

Jackson smiled and shook his hand. “Right. Randall. That's me.” he shot the other Jackson a look that conveyed exactly what he was feeling about this.

After helping Jackson into the car, Jackson walked around and entered the driver's seat.

“Randall?” he asked.

“It was either that or T'Challa.” he answered.

“Okay, that does it. I'm tossing your TV, computer, and comic books out the window. You need to get a frickin life. Now, where's the Harley?”

“Uh..."

  


By the time they were ready to order a second round, Arizona had joined them.

When the fourth round arrived, they were starting to feel a whole lot better about everything.

Alex found the three of them pretty plastered. Their efforts to order a sixth round had been unsuccessful and instead Joe had served them ice water.

After soliciting a promise from April and Arizona that they would drink their water and then call an Uber to get home, he left to take Jo home. He had heard the whole story from Arizona and, while it would have been very bad for Paul Stadler to have walked into Joe’s right then, Alex was smart enough not to go hunt the man down. He hoped instead, that Stadler could begin the process of fading from their memories.

  


A few minutes earlier Jackson had been updating Meredith’s patient’s chart when Alex Karev rested his elbow on the desk beside him.

Jackson looked up at him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Karev replied. “I talked to Mer. Good work today, with Hunt I mean.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean it. It means a lot around here. Hunt’s one of ours, ya know. Really good work.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, I’m heading across the street to pick up Jo. Wanna come? I’ll buy you a drink.”

Jackson was tempted but knew that April would misinterpret his presence. Better to let her have her space. “No, thanks though. I saw Jo was pretty upset. Hope it’s nothing serious?”

“It’s a fucking shit storm but hopefully the worst is over.” Alex replied. “Her ex showed up today.”

“Her ex? I didn’t know she had been married.”

“Oh believe me, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Anyway, I guess he was here all day, even helping out here in the ER.”

“Pretty rough day for Jo then,” sympathized Jackson.

“Yeah, so, listen, I’d better go get her before she poisons herself too bad. See ya later.”

“Okay, cya.” Jackson returned and Karev walked out the door.

His curiosity piqued, Jackson got the attention of one of the nurses. “Hey, was there a doctor from outside helping out down here today?”

“You mean Doctor Stadler, Paul Stadler?” She asked.

Stadler. Why did that name sound familiar? “Yeah, that’s the one. Thanks.”

Why did he know that name?

  


April and Arizona sipped their ice water. “How are you, April? It’s been forever since we’ve had a chance to hang out.”

“I know. It has been forever. I’m … okay, I guess. Had some rough days lately. But things are kind of starting to turn back around, until this whole thing anyway.”

“I know. This is so crazy and so sad. Imagine having to go into hiding, change your name, and live like that. It must have been a nightmare for her.”

“Yeah, no shortage of nightmares these days.” April sighed.

“But you said things were looking up for you?” Arizona said brightly.

“Kind of. Still to be decided, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Prompted Arizona.

“Well, I’m kind of seeing a guy…”

“What? Finally! Who? Somebody from the hospital?” Arizona was well known for loving hospital gossip and a bit infamous for being less than discrete.

April was very familiar with both of those traits and torn between wanting to talk to someone and fearing that it would come back to haunt her if she did. She decided the need outweighed the fear.

“It’s Jackson.” But she could see that name didn’t immediately register with Arizona. “Jackson Avery.”

“Wait, the Jackson Avery that no one knew existed until he suddenly pops up to do Owen’s skin grafts? That Jackson Avery?”

April put aside the little guilt she harbored that until a few days ago, she had been in that group. “That’s the one.”

“Well, that’s an interesting development. Even with the glasses he’s a pretty tasty morsel, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

April cast her a sidelong glance. “He has some redeeming qualities.” She admitted.

Arizona stared at her. “So you’ve slept with him. Oh April, I’m so proud.”

April blushed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. “It’s not like he’s my first.”

Arizona was familiar with April’s history in this area. “Near enough. But glad to see you finally shedding your inhibitions about it. And with kind of a hottie, too. You go, girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, it’s no big deal. Just sex really. It’s not like I have feelings for him or anything.”

Arizona gave her a funny little look. “You know, sweetie, when someone bothers to say that, it usually means the opposite.”

April scoffed. “Well not in this case. I just need one thing from him. As soon as I get tired of that, I’ll cut him loose.”

“Uh huh.” Robbins replied. “If you say so.”

Now April was anxious to change the subject, or at least get the focus off her relationship with Jackson. “So, I was surprised to find out that Jackson was so close to Mark Sloan.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“That’s who he learned all that skin stuff from. He told me Sloan was like his guru or something.”

“He told you that?”

“Yes. He said he and Sloan would sneak off to do pro bono work at Seattle Children's.”

Arizona laughed.

“What?” Asked April.

“Mark Sloan sneaking off to do pro bono work at Seattle Children's? Yeah, that never happened. He may have gone to Seattle Children's to do _pro boner_ work on a nurse or something but I assure you, Mark was not volunteering time anywhere.”

“But, that’s what Jackson told me.” A puzzled April protested.

“Sorry, sweetie, but your boy toy is lying.”

 


	14. When Is A Choice No Choice At All?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While April tries to deal with the knowledge that Jackson lied to her, Bailey too is on the trail of the mysterious Doctor Avery.  
> Meanwhile Jackson finally reveals the truth of his mission to save April.  
> And Paul Stadler takes a very dark turn that will have consequences for a number of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note of apology for taking so long to get this finished and posted. My excuse is the sad news that broke last week about Greys letting Sarah Drew and Jessica Capshaw go and the crappy episode Thursday night. If ever you needed convincing that Sarah is the only actor capable of making something good out of the crap that passes for GA these days, Game Night should have done it.  
> It is a difficult transition for many of us to go from hoping and praying for a Japril endgame to just hoping they do right by April Kepner these final ten episodes. But as Jackson told his mother a few chapters ago, it's a good time to remember to count our blessings for 9 and 10 seasons of both wonderful actresses bringing to life their unforgettable characters.

Sleep was hard to come by that night.

In her bed, April tossed and turned, grappling with the effects of too much alcohol, and worse, the knowledge that Jackson Avery had lied to her. What possible reason could he have for doing it? I guess betrayal is just the order of the day, she thought. Medicine is betraying me. God is betraying me. Jackson is betraying me. And I’m betraying me. I’ve betrayed myself by leaving that door open, just a crack. And letting him in, just a little. Well, I can’t do much about medicine or God. Pretty much have to live with those shortcomings. But Jackson Avery? That I can do something about. And he better not let that slamming door hit him in the ass. Or maybe better that it does.

 

Meanwhile, not too far away, one Jackson was tossing and turning because his bruised shoulder and knee throbbed with pain every time he shifted position. And the other Jackson couldn’t sleep because try as he might he couldn’t remember why Paul Stadler was an important name.

His Google and LinkedIn searches had turned up nothing. There was no connection to Grey Sloan, no connection to April. He couldn’t even find a connection to Jo Wilson. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that Paul Stadler had some part to play in all this. It was maddening.

When he finally did get to sleep, it was a fitful one, providing little rest, but, apparently, just enough, for when he awoke the next day, he had it.

“Wake up. I remembered who Paul Stadler was, is, what the connection is to April.”

Jackson winced. “Uh, please, not so loud. Concussion, remember?”

“Too bad. Suck it up. This is the day.”

“What? What day? What are you talking about?”

“This is the day it all went to shit for her. It starts with Paul Stadler.”

“Are you nuts? It already went to shit for her.”

“But this is the real day. The stick that breaks the camel’s back.”

“You mean _the straw that breaks the camel’s back_.”

“Stick, straw, whatever. This is the day.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s the Matthew day. That’s always the thing that throws her off. Always.”

“But even you admitted that the timeline for all these things changes all the time. How do you know that this Stadler guy is even important, or that Matthew is even going to follow the same timeline as before?”

“Because he always does. I just realized it. It’s a constant. Matthew day always starts with April in the ER working on Stadler. Every time. That’s why Jo and Alex are there too. They’re the connection.”

“And how do you know that’s today?”

“Because Stadler was at Grey Sloan yesterday.” Jackson related what he knew of Stadler’s presence at the hospital the previous day.

“And you think that means he comes back today as a patient?”

“Yes. A hit and run, I think.”

“And Jo Wilson is upset because..?”

“Obviously, he’s her ex. She must still have feelings for him. Who knows, maybe even a child? There’s something heavy that’s going on there.”

“And if April loses him...”

“Jo is devastated and April feels responsible.”

“Add Matthew’s wife, and the kid that gets shot…”

“It breaks her and sends her into some kind of spiral…”

“That leads her to her death.”

“Fuck!”

 

  
The water in the shower was as hot as she could get it to be. Fortunately, the water heater was restricted from heating it to scalding. But it was pretty close. April didn’t care. She wanted it hotter. She wanted it so hot it would burn away the pain and hurt and deaden her skin to feeling. Feeling is so overrated, she thought.

Besides, she chuckled mirthlessly, if she did get burned, Jackson could just treat her with the stuff he learned from Sloan at Seattle Children's.

She was such an idiot to fall for his game, whatever the hell it was. It’s not like he’d even needed to lie to her. He hadn’t even needed to talk to her. She was the one who just wanted to fuck. Why hadn’t he just been happy with that? And why hadn’t she stuck to the plan herself? Fuck!

Maybe Avery was a predator like that Stadler asshole. Maybe it wasn’t enough for him to have her body. Maybe he got off on fucking her mind and soul too. Had he somehow sensed how wounded she was? Was he some kind of shark, circling out of sight in the depths just waiting for blood on the water to surface? Everything seemed to indicate that was the case. Everything except one thing.., Owen.

She had called the hospital after getting home to check to see if the skin graft had really gone as well as Jackson had reported. And she had been surprised to find out it had. In fact, they planned to bring Owen out of his induced coma this afternoon.

The nurse she had spoken with also indicated that Meredith Grey now had Jackson treating two more burn patients in the hospital’s care.

Avery had become something of a hero around Grey Sloan. How did that happen? Where HAD he picked up those skills? And what purpose was served lying about it to her?  That was the one thing that didn’t fit. That and the fact that she had been so totally fooled by what she thought she saw in his eyes and felt in his touch.

 

  
April might have been surprised to learn that Miranda Bailey was pondering the exact same question a few miles away. With her access restored to the hospital’s database, she had looked up Jackson Avery’s personnel records and, aside from the normal rotation through plastics with Mark Sloan, there was nothing to indicate where he had picked up any proficiency in something so specialized as skin grafting or advanced suturing techniques.

In fact, Avery had failed to distinguish himself throughout his residency, which partially explained how he had remained here at Grey Sloan in what was considered one of the _second rate_ specialties. Bailey did remember talk that Avery hadn’t committed himself to his work anything like some of his peers. There was something about his parents?

Bailey well remembered the day April Kepner, against considerable odds herself, became the _Gunther_. Jackson hadn’t made any mistakes that day, but he hadn’t asserted himself or stood out in any positive way either. He had just sort of faded into the background, which was what everyone became accustomed to him doing.

It made his recent activity all the more astounding. And definitely captured Miranda Bailey’s attention.

So Bailey found herself unknowingly echoing April Kepner’s question. Where had Jackson Avery acquired his Sloan like powers? Bailey was determined to find out.

 

  
“Okay, so what do we do? If April can’t save the guy, how can we?” this Jackson asked. He was limping around the room nervously now.

“I don't know. Maybe there's some way of preventing him from getting hit in the first place.” suggested his house guest.

Jackson considered the possibility. “That actually makes sense. If he never gets hit, he never comes into the ER, April never loses him.”

“Right.”

“What about the other things on Matthew day, like Matthew, for instance?” this Jackson asked

“I think I know what to do about that too. Remember, I told you about the low BP condition? If I can figure out how to tip April off to it…”

“Then she's all over it, saves the wife, and a big loss turns into a big win. The boy?”

“Haven’t figured that out yet. But if I’m there, maybe something will come to me.”

“You? Why you? You don't think you're going?”

“Yeah, there’s no question it has to be me there today.”

“Why? I’m the one who’s supposed to save April, remember?” Jackson reminded him.

“Except you now have a concussion, can barely walk, and your face is all busted up.”

“But things go bad when you directly intervene. You said so.”

“We’re going to have to take that chance.”

“No!” Jackson replied forcefully, in spite of his busted lip. “We ARE NOT taking that chance. We're not taking any chance that might make us fail.”

That Jackson looked at him sadly. “Look, I know you love her. I’m the only other person in this universe that knows exactly how you feel about her. Because I feel it too. It stays with me, you know? I carry it with me every time. I think my fighting against loving her is what put everything so out of whack.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s why I keep getting moved from reality to reality. I won’t stop moving until it’s put right.”

“But this is my reality,” This Jackson argued. “my April, and I can’t lose her. I can’t.”

Jackson looked at his other self sadly. “What if saving her does mean losing her?” he asked. “What if it means losing everything?”

 

  
“Kepner, where’s your Doctor Avery?” Bailey demanded, not seeing him in the ER.

“He’s not _my_ _Doctor Avery_.” April replied letting a little more irritation leak into her voice than she usually did with Bailey.

“Okay, Kepner, where is our esteemed colleague, Jackson Avery?”

“Esteemed?” April scoffed.

“Kepner! Answer the damn question. Where is Avery?”

“He doesn’t come in for another hour, Chief.”

“Well why didn’t you just say so? When he does come in, have him get his butt up in my office pronto.”

“Sure thing, Chief.” Probably wants to give him a promotion, she theorized with disgust.

 

  
“ What do you mean, _lose everything_?”

Jackson's reply was a curveball. “Are you familiar with String Theory?”

“String Theory? Are we really going to discuss physics?” an astounded Jackson answered. “Shouldn't we be springing into action or something heroic like that?”

“If you want an answer to your question, this is what I'm offering.”

An impatient Jackson decided the quickest way forward was to let his other self do his thing. “Okay, just the high points, please.”

“Okay, first, String Theory is a take on physics that replaces particles with strings that vibrate and interact with each other to make up the universe. It purportedly is a theory that could be used to explain everything...”

“Do we have time for this?” Jackson interrupted.

Jackson ignored him. “and it's thought by some to describe an enormous landscape of possible universes.”

“You know this why?”

“Duh, don't you think if you suddenly found yourself jumping from universe to universe, you'd do some research into it too?

“Maybe, but more likely I'd be out there trying to stop the jumping.” argued Jackson.

“That's where you're mistaken. I'm not just trying to stop jumping.” Jackson replied calmly.

 

  
Meredith Grey was in Owen's room when April went in to check on him.

“How is he?” she asked.

“Doing amazingly well, actually.” replied Grey. “Going to bring him out of the coma in a couple of hours. Then we start thinking about rehab. He's got a long way to go but I think that, with a little luck, he can come all the way back.”

“Chief Webber?”

“Same story. Avery got to him so fast that we were able to stabilize him, and contain the damage. Kind of a miracle. Actually, kind of two miracles,” Meredith mused, “with Avery up to his eyeballs in both of them.”

April shook her head. Miracles? Lately she had lost her ability to believe in miracles. And the last twelve hours had also taken away her ability to believe in Jackson Avery. But this... and from Meredith Grey, who April knew wasn't particularly prone to believe in divine anything. She had thought it was just her but now she wondered if the entire universe had gone off the rails?

 

  
“Part of string theory is that the vibration of a string affects the other strings around it, creating force.”

Jackson groaned. “Back to string theory? Can't you just cut to the chase?”

That Jackson became a little annoyed. “Look, have you ever played guitar?”

“No, no musical ability.”

“Me either. But I had a good friend once who did. In his guitar case he carried a pitch fork. One single pitch fork. He always used it to tune one string. Then he would tune the other strings in order from the first. He said he didn't trust his ear.”

“This is very interesting, but I'm not sure I see the connection between the theory of everything and tuning a guitar.”

“Bear with me. I asked my friend why he didn't have six pitch forks instead of one. He told me he only needed one string to be perfect. Because although he didn't trust his ear, he trusted his eyes.”

“What?”

“He showed me how the top string vibrated when it was tuned and he held the E pitch fork near it. Once it was tuned, he knew where to press to get the next string to vibrate when it was in tune. And so on until all six strings are in tune.”

“This is very useful information should I ever want to tune a guitar but ...”

“So let's pretend all these universes are like guitar strings. As long as they all stay in tune, the song goes on without any problem.” Jackson proposed. “But suppose one string falls out of tune, so badly out of tune it's vibration gets all crazy and starts affecting the others and knocking them out of tune. The only way to get everything straight again is to stop and get one string tuned and reverse the effect. Go backwards and get all the strings back in tune and restore harmony to the song.”

“So your universe is the string that fell out of tune?” this Jackson ventured.

“Right. I missed my note. I didn't save April. And it threw off a multitude of universes.”

“And you think if we save her here...”

“We get back in tune. And all the other universes can find their tune too.”

“Including yours.”

“Including mine.”

It finally dawned on Jackson what his counterpart was aiming for. “You aren't just trying to stop jumping, you think you'll get another chance to save your April.”

“Yes. Otherwise why would I be here?”

  


“Arizona, got a minute?”

“Just one. Heading into surgery. What's up?”

“What we talked about last night, Avery and Sloan doing time at Seattle Children's, are you absolutely sure it didn't happen?”

“One hundred percent. April, I'm a pediatric surgeon. I know everyone at Seattle Children's. I spend a ton of time there every year. Mark Sloan never crossed their threshold in a professional capacity.”

Arizona could see this confirmation troubled her friend. Of course it would. No one wants to be lied to, particularly by someone she was becoming involved with.

“April, I'm sorry to be the bearer of the bad news. But if you want to verify with someone else, talk to Alex. He's spent a lot of time at Children's too. Plus, he knew Mark. Ask him. But, April, don't get your hopes up for a different answer from him.”

  


“So how does this guitar string theory of yours lead to me losing everything?”

Jackson looked at his other self sadly. “I didn’t tell you everything. I had my reasons. But now I think you should know.”

“Know what?”

Jackson heard the doubt and fear in his voice. _I’m right there with you buddy_. “You can’t help any more. You need to just walk away.”

“Walk away? You must be kidding. I’m not walking away. We’ve got to save April.”

“No, not this time. This time I’ve got to try without you.”

This Jackson jumped up from his chair, ignoring the pain that shot through his injured knee. “What? You said you tried that before, a bunch of times, and it didn’t work.”

“Well, maybe it will this time.”

“Bullshit! Maybe? No, I'm going to save her. With or without you. April is going to live.”

“Maybe…,” Jackson looked up at him, “but you won’t.”

Jackson looked down at him with wide eyes, his injured mouth working soundlessly until finally … “What?”

 

  
She thought she had enough time. He liked to take long showers at home. Why would the hotel be any different? But it took too long to locate that scrap of paper. And when he came out of the bathroom he found her with it in her hand. Jo Wilson had been right. By the time Jenny had worked up the courage to act, it was too late.

 

  
“It's pretty simple really, the only way to save April is to sacrifice your life for hers.” explained Jackson.

Jackson stood before him, dumbfounded. “How can you be sure?” he asked.

“Because in every reality but one, Jackson dies trying to save her. And then she dies. Every time.”

“But one, you said.” Jackson replied with desperate hope.

“Right.” that Jackson replied. “Mine.”

“And you think...”

“That's why I'm being jumped. Because I wasn't there to sacrifice myself for her. Because I wasn't where I was supposed to be, where I belong. I think that's what threw things off. Knocked it all out of whack. I think it affected all the other realities too. In every reality Jackson is just a little bit late, just enough to fail to save her. I think it's my fault.”

“And now you're traveling from universe to universe until you somehow fix it?”

“Yes. If April can just survive, I think it puts everything back in harmony.”

“So all of us other Jackson's die so you can go back and have your happily ever after with your April?”

Jackson shook his head sadly. “No, I think if I can get back I may get another chance, a chance for me to be where I need to be and do what I need to do.”

That's when Jackson realized what his counterpart wanted, a chance to go back to his own reality and trade his life for Aprils. “So that all the realities are the same.” he whispered.

“Yes. April lives...”

“We all die...”

“Because that's what we are meant to do.”

“Give our lives...”

“For her.”

  


Doctor Paul Stadler had a pretty huge ego. He rightfully judged himself attractive to the opposite sex, though his privately held belief that he could have any woman on the planet was quite delusional. His pride in his medical skills and reputation was likewise justified, though again not to the extent that his ego made them out to be. And one of the personal characteristics that he had taken a lot of pride in, his self control, was also a true strength, though not nearly as infallible as he would have liked to believe.

And now, the evidence of that fallibility lay before him, forcing him to confront the fact that he had grossly overestimated that particular area of strength.

Jenny's body lay sprawled across the bed. He didn't need his medical degree to know that she was dead. Nor would the bruising around her throat require forensics expertise to determine the cause of her death.

Paul Stadler could accurately be described as brilliant. He was certainly smart enough to know that this momentary loss of control had now cost him everything. But men with huge egos rarely accept blame for their own failings, even when the evidence is incontrovertible. Already Paul Stadler was shifting the blame for the ruin of his life. If only that bitch Brooke had kept her mouth shut. And her little red headed dyke friend been smart enough to keep her nose out of it.

 

  
“This was your plan all along then.”

“That's right.”

“Right from the start you knew I would die.”

“Yes.”

This Jackson limped to the window. His mind was churning, sorting through the implications. “But in this universe..”

“You and April were not together.”

“So you..., you made me fall in love with her.” Jackson choked out the words.

“It wasn't too difficult, but yes, I needed you to fall in love with her.”

“So I would be willing...”

“Yes, willing to die for her.” that Jackson answered calmly.

This Jackson shook his head as though to fling off the realizations dawning inside.

“You made me fall in love with her when you knew that I would lose her. No matter what, I would lose her. I would die and likely she would too.”

“That's right.”

“How could you do that? Who does that?” asked Jackson, aghast.

“A man who loves her enough to do anything, give anything, sacrifice anything or anyone, for the chance to save her.” that Jackson replied.

For several long moments neither Jackson said anything. One Jackson struggled to comprehend the enormity of what had befallen him, the other observed him and one could only guess at what was going through his mind. Finally, Jackson's wounded lips broke the silence.

“Why, though? Why ruin your plan now? Why tell me this? Why try to keep me from being there? Keep me from trying to save her?”

“Because I've found that I'm actually not willing to sacrifice everyone.”

Jackson could see that his other self didn't yet understand. He would make it clear.

“Mom.”

  


“Alex.”

“Kepner, what's up? Don't see you down in the NICU very often, ever, in fact.”

“Wanted to ask you about something.” April replied.

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever hear anything about Jackson Avery hanging around Mark Sloan?”

Alex thought a moment. “No. Nope, I don't remember anything like that. As far as I know, Avery pretty much kept to himself until, like, last week.”

“So you don't remember ever seeing them together outside Grey Sloan? Maybe over at Seattle Children's?”

“Children's? Sloan and Avery? No chance. Until Sophia came along Sloan avoided kids like the plague. Unless there was some big plastics case out of there, Sloan wouldn't have gone anywhere near Children's. Avery maybe, I barely notice him here, not sure I would have at Children's.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks Alex.” April turned to go.

“You okay?” Alex called after her.

She turned to face him again. She could read the concern in his face. “Yeah, I'm alright. Why?”

“Nothing, really, it's just you don't seem to have your usual happy face on lately.”

“The happy face you so love to make fun of?” April asked wryly.

“Yeah, that one.” Alex answered, maintaining his serious expression.

“It's been kinda rough lately, that's all. I'm okay.”

“Well, if you need anything..”

She nodded. “Thanks.” Turning, she began to walk away again.

“I miss it. Your happy face.” she heard him say to her back.

Me too, she thought.

  


“She needs you as much as April does.”

“How do you know that?” asked Jackson. His expression now straddling the line between anger and astonishment.

“I went to see her a couple of days ago.”

“You what?”

“I went to..”

But the other Jackson cut him off. “You had no right! She's my mother, not yours.” he shouted.

“Not sure those sort of rules apply in this situation.” Jackson answered calmly.

“Fuck you!” Jackson had crossed that line now and it didn't seem likely he'd be crossing back over any time soon. “You appear here out of the blue, because you fucked up your own reality so bad it spilled over into a hundred more. You hijack my life, and trick me into helping you set me up. And now that you got what you wanted, now that I love her, you tell me that there's no good outcome for me. That to save her, I have to die, leaving my mother without anyone. And if I choose my mother instead, April dies, but, hey, she may die anyway no matter what I do. Fuck you, asshole. I never should have trusted you.”

“But you did. And you may not believe it, but I'm sorry too. But it is what it is. What's done is done. So here's the plan. You stay here, out of harm's way. I'll go do my best to save April. I think I'm doomed to fail but I've got to try. And if I do fail..”

“You go to the next reality and it starts all over again, right?”

“Right. Unless I don't. Unless one of these universe's is the last stop. But at least you'll be okay, you and your mother.”

Then Jackson did the most unexpected thing he could do; he laughed. It was laughter laced with tears. The other Jackson remembered doing something similar, a long time ago, it seemed, in a supply room at Grey Sloan, when Richard Webber asked him if everything was all right.

“Okay? I'll be _okay_? There is no _okay_. If you fail, I lose April. But if and when you succeed, in this universe or the next...,”

And suddenly Jackson understood what his other self was saying. When and if he managed to save April, all the Jackson Averys would perish. Because that was the universe's plan. The only way to spare this Jackson and his mother was to give up his quest and let the error stand; to allow April to die; to just continue to jump until he couldn't; to continue to witness April's death time and again, helplessly. But he couldn't do that. He just couldn't.

He looked at his other self, whose anguished expression now closely mirrored his own. This Jackson seemed to read his mind.

“You can't leave her to die.”

“No, I can't. Not again. Never again.”

“I know.” this Jackson sighed, “I can't either. So what's our plan?”

 


	15. Action Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Matthew Day' has arrived and the Jackson's try to head off the events they believe will lead to April's personal crisis.  
> One Jackson manages to achieve his goal without too much trouble, but the other runs into a great deal of difficulty at the hospital.  
> Neither realize they've made a mistake that will have dire consequences for their mission.

The first order of business was to try and forestall the Stadler fail.

“But we have no idea where he is.”

“But he is a doctor.”

Jackson caught Jackson's drift, “So he has a service.”

A quick Google search turned up a phone number. His service picked up promptly.

“Yes, this is Doctor Avery, Grey Sloan Memorial, in Seattle. Doctor Stadler graciously helped out in our ER yesterday and we have an urgent need to get in touch with him about a case he worked on. No, of course you can't.” Jackson covered the mouthpiece and whispered “They can't give me his phone number.”

“Then ask for his hotel.” the other Jackson whispered back.

Jackson nodded. “Yes, well if you'd kindly let me know where he is staying, we can reach him through his hotel. Yes, this is relatively urgent. Would we like him paged?” he glanced at this Jackson, who was shaking his head vigorously. “Uh, no, it's not that urgent. If you'll tell us where he is staying we can send the chart over with a courier. Okay, the Four Seasons? Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“The Four Seasons, huh? Should have figured.”

“Yeah, he's a player. Why didn't you want him paged?” that Jackson asked.

“What would we have told him when he called back? Stay in your room, keep the door locked, and hide under the bed?”

“Good point. So now we know where he is, what do we do?”

“Since you're insisting you have to be at the hospital, I'll go to the Four Seasons and try to keep the guy on the frickin sidewalk and out of traffic.”

“Think you can recognize him?”

“Just looked at a dozen pictures of him. Yeah, I'll recognize him.”

“Okay, let's get moving then. We don't want to be late.”

“Says Professor String Theory.”

“Too much, huh?”

“Way over the top, way.” answered this Jackson.

  
  


Paul Stadler considered his next move. He knew he'd never get away with this crime. The hotel's security cameras would verify that he had been with Jenny at the time of her death so even if he had a way of disguising the cause of her death, he would immediately be scrutinized. And that scrutiny would undoubtedly lead back to Brooke. And that would be very bad.

And Stadler, like most abusers, was a coward. He would never survive incarceration. No, he couldn't take that chance. Dying was a much easier way out. But he had a burning desire to exact some revenge first. And to do that, he needed to manufacture some time for himself somehow.

On one hand, he had a couple of hours before checkout time came along. But as soon as they entered to ready the room for the next guest, the hunt would be on. He needed more than a couple of hours. It wasn't long before he had an idea that he thought might work. He felt fortunate that his corner suite was one of the few with a balcony.

  
  


Jackson guided his Matrix toward Grey Sloan. The other Jackson sat in the passenger seat with his hood drawn around his face, just in case they pulled up next to someone they knew.

They had been silent since leaving Jackson's apartment. Finally, that Jackson looked toward the driver. “Are you sure you still want to help? Even though...”

“Yes.”

Silence resumed for several long moments until Jackson again looked toward the drivers seat. “Why? Your mother...”

“My mother is why.” answered Jackson, checking the mirror as he changed lanes to pass a delivery truck.

“Not following.”

“You heard of Tuskegee University?” this Jackson asked.

“Of course.” answered that Jackson.

“My mom went there. She wanted to be a doctor. Did you know that? But a black woman growing up in Alabama when she did, was discouraged at every turn. Get married, they told her. Have babies. Sling hash in a diner. That's what you're going to be good at. But my mother, she would just smile and nod and when they weren't looking she studied and worked her ass off to prove them wrong. She was a fighter.”

“So, your mother was a doctor too?” asked Jackson.

“No, she never made it to med school. She didn't have the money for that. But she did make it through the nursing program and became a nurse.”

“Oh.”

“Fuck you! Don't you think for a minute that was a defeat, that she settled for anything. She loved being a nurse and she was a damn good one. And you and I both know that without good nurses, we'd be nothing.”

“Can't argue with any of that.” agreed Jackson. “But I'm missing the link to our April situation.”

“Mom always told me not to ever let someone tell me I can't do something. She said the only sure way to lose was not to try.”

He looked his counterpart in the eye. “I don't care what you say is inevitable. I am going to save April Kepner. And the rest of it will take care of itself.”

The fierceness of his expression gave momentary rise to hope in Jackson's heart. What if? What if this Jackson was right? Then he remembered a hundred other times he had hoped. He pulled his hood tighter around his face and turned away to look out the window.

  
  


The Matrix pulled to the curb just around the corner from the hospital. Jackson got out and leaned down. “Okay, get your ass over to the Four Seasons. By my reckoning you should get there just before Stadler gets run over. Once you make contact and prevent the accident, text me.”

“Got it. Meanwhile you know what you need to do about the Taylor woman but got any ideas yet about the boy?”

“Yes on Taylor, no on the boy. But I'll think of something.” He felt a drop hit his face. Jackson reached into the back seat and grabbed the coat he borrowed from Jackson. He heard a clinking sound and realized the socket wrench had somehow made it into the inside pocket. Well, no matter.

“Good luck.” the Jacksons wished one another.

This Jackson sped off in the direction of the Four Seasons. That Jackson walked around the corner toward Grey Sloan. _Matthew Day_ was beginning.

  
  


“You're early.” she said when he walked into the ER.

“Just love it here so much.” he answered with a wry smile.

But April did not return the smile to him. “Uh huh. Do you love it as much as you did Seattle Children's?”

Uh oh, thought Jackson, where is that coming from?

“Well, you are here so ...” he tried. He didn't need a focus group to tell him how well that went over.

April's stony stare never wavered. What the hell was going on, he wondered? He needed something get out from under the intense shade she was casting his way.

“Hey, did you get in to see Hunt yet?” he asked. That had to deflect some of the cold, didn't it?

The way she just tilted her head, looked at him, and deigned not to reply told him he hadn't done himself any favors with that maneuver either. What the hell?

While he was trying to sort out the signals, April finally spoke.

“Bailey wants you upstairs, first thing.” she stated flatly.

“Upstairs?”

“Her office.” April clarified. “Now.”

Now what, wondered Jackson? That wasn't going to work. He had to be down here in case Jackson missed Stadler and he was brought in anyway. He was given a temporary reprieve when the radio squawked with fresh intake coming into the bay.

“Got it.” called Glasses, rushing toward the ER doors. “Doctor Avery?”

Jackson's sigh of relief was short lived.

April yelled “Hold it! You're with me, today, Glasses. We'll have your boyfriend work with ...” April surveyed the ER. Intern Vik was leaning on a gurney, chatting up one of the nurses. “Roy.” she called.

“Huh? What?” Vik Roy came upright suddenly.

“You're with Avery today.” she called. She looked at Jackson. “Pay attention, Vik, you may learn a whole new specialty.”

Wait, Children's, Hunt, _a whole new specialty_? It finally dawned on Jackson; crap, somehow April had caught on to his little fabrication. This was really horrible timing. Damn it, this must be what Bailey wanted to see him about. Fuck!

  
  


Jackson parked the car in a metered spot down the street from the Four Seasons and then hustled to get to the hotel, his knee aching with every step. He was worried that Jackson may have gotten the timing screwed up and he would be too late to keep Stadler from getting hit.

Arriving at the front door, he began to consider how he would pull off this surveillance. The doormen and valets were already looking at him. They hadn't really had a chance to think this part through, he realized. A moment later though, no one was paying any attention to him.

Jackson heard, rather than saw, the impact. It was fortunate for him as that sort of experience could haunt even a surgeon for the rest of his or her life. There was a hush as though the entire block was inhaling in sync. Then the screams began.

As a doctor, his natural instinct was to rush toward the body. But he was still some distance from it when he determined the person was beyond any earthly help.

He looked up and then around. One of the valets, a young man by all appearances, was vomiting at curbside. Two young women were screaming and crying and staggering back toward the hotel's entrance, legs covered by blood spatter.

He heard one of the doormen yelling “Jumper!” over and over. Jackson, too, turned back toward the hotel entrance. “Call 911” he told the other doorman, who stood transfixed in shock.

A moment later, he heard the first sirens in the distance. Someone had beaten the doorman to it.

Jackson happened to be looking through the glass front of the hotel when he spotted him. He recognized him instantly. Stadler had exited the elevator and was now striding quickly across the lobby, ignoring the guests and staff that were scurrying to keep everyone away from the gruesome scene.

Jackson observed him with a curious detachment as he pushed through the revolving door and brushed by him on his way to the street. It took a moment for him to remember that he was supposed to keep Stadler from harm, something he couldn't do if the man got too far ahead of him. So he fell in behind him. Jackson thought there was something a little odd about the way the man was behaving but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Stadler continued his fast pace, requiring Jackson to push his injured knee to keep up. He reached the corner and stepped out into the street just as the first police unit rushed up on the opposite side of the street, siren blaring. Stadler seemed to be looking at his feet and so unaware of the driver coming from his left who impatiently decided to gun it across the intersection ahead of the crossing police cruiser.

Jackson barely had time to cover the distance to the middle of the street where Stadler now stood. Throwing himself at the doctor, they barely escaped the path of the speeding car. Jackson groaned as Stadler fell on his injured shoulder. Right then, he wished he had been more insistent when he and the other Jackson were deciding assignments for this day.

As the car sped away, having barely flashed brake lights before accelerating again, Stadler and his rescuer slowly got to their feet and finished crossing the street to get out of traffic.

“That was close.” Jackson said, rotating his shoulder to assess any new damage.

'Yes, yes it was. Thanks.” replied Stadler.

“Jackson, Avery. Doctor Jackson Avery.” Jackson stuck out his hand.

“Doctor? That's interesting. Do I know you?” Stadler inquired, ignoring the proffered hand.

“Oh, no, but I recognized you from your publications. You're pretty famous.”

Stadler nodded. “Yes, well, I'm late for an appointment. Thank you again, Doctor..?”

“Avery.” replied Jackson.

As Stadler hurried away, Jackson congratulated himself on accomplishing his mission. Now April's day would not include Doctor Paul Stadler.

He turned back toward the hotel where several additional emergency vehicles had now arrived. That's when he realized what was bothering him about Doctor Paul Stadler's behavior. Whereas Jackson's first response had been typical for a doctor; go toward the victim to ascertain their condition and offer help, Stadler hadn't even looked in that direction. Jackson turned and looked after him but Stadler had already disappeared from view. “Kind of weird.” he muttered.

He got out his phone. **Mission Accomplished** he texted. Then, his knee now thoroughly throbbing, he made his way past the grisly scene, which the police had now cordoned off, and toward the Matrix. He hoped Jackson was doing as well.

  
  


But the other Jackson wasn't doing well at all. Figuring out the reason for April's icy behavior toward him hadn't given him any ideas on how to thaw it. And now he had been ordered to report to Bailey, who must have either exposed him somehow or been made aware of his lie. Either way, it was likely to result in a benching on a day they could least afford one.

The only thing to do was to try and dodge the Bailey bullet in hopes of surviving long enough to shield April from the heartbreaking events he was sure were on their way. But how could he hide out and be here in the ER at the same time?

While he pondered the possibilities, Vik the intern stood nearby checking his phone. Jackson glanced at him. He did not have the most favorable impression of this one. He had heard one of the residents remark that Intern Vik wasn't the brightest bulb in the shed. Hmm, maybe there was a way to make that work in his favor.

“Vik.” The intern was engrossed in something. “Vik.” Jackson repeated more loudly.

“Yes sir.” Vik popped upright.

“I have to go see Chief Bailey. But I need you to keep me informed about what's going on down here, specifically any new intake.”

“Intake? You mean here, to the ER?”

“Yes, here, the ER.”

“Uh, why?”

Jackson's expression hardened. “Are you questioning an Attending's instructions?”

“What, no.”

“No?”

“No sir.” Vik replied nervously. “Uh, how do I do that exactly?”

“Hand me your phone.”

Jackson quickly entered his cell number into the Intern's contact list. “There. Text me whenever a new patient comes in.”

“Uh, text you what?”

“Name and condition.”

“What if I don't know?”

“Check their chart or ask the doctor who's treating them.” Geez this one was dense.

Vik shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“Don't forget. Every single new intake.”

“Got it.”

Jackson walked out of the ER toward the elevators. Now to find a place nearby to hide out. As long as Vik didn't screw up, he should be able to rush back here when either of the patients he was looking for arrived. Pleased with himself, Jackson made his way toward an on-call room that he had used many times in his own reality, especially convenient due to its proximity to the ER and April.

Unfortunately, Vik's persistent obliviousness cut both ways.

  
  


“What are you doing?” April asked,

The intern looked up from his phone. “Just doing what Doctor Avery asked me to.” he answered.

“Which is?” April asked suspiciously.

“Texting him about the new intake.” he replied.

“What the f... Give me that phone.”

April read down the string of text messages to _Doctor A_.

**Dolores Watkins- fainted**

**Willie Sanchez- chest pain**

**Esther Gandalfini- broken waist**

“Broken _waist_?”

Vik looked at it. “Damn spell check. That should be broken _wrist_.”

“Avery put you up to this?” April demanded. Now what was he up to?

“Yes, ma'am. He said to text him whenever we got new intake.”

“And did he happen to say where he would be?”

“Yes, ma'am. He said he had a meeting with Chief Bailey.”

“But he wanted you to text him every time we got a new patient?”

“Those were his orders.”

April walked swiftly toward the nurses station.

“Uh, that's my phone.” Vik called after her. She ignored him.

Picking up the intercom, she punched in Bailey's extension.

“Bailey.” answered the Chief.

“Chief, sorry for the interruption but is Avery still there?”

“No, Kepner, he is not _still_ here. For him to be _still_ here he would have had to be here in the first place, which he hasn't been. I would like very much to know why that is the case as I believe I left explicit instructions in that regard.”

April closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Whatever Jackson Avery was up to was now reflecting badly on her. “Sorry, Chief, I sent him to you first thing but apparently he got lost on the way.”

“Kepner, is he or is he not in your department? If you can't get your department to follow orders...”

“I'll track him down and get him up to you right away.”

“Make sure you do.” April heard Bailey hang up.

“Oh yeah I will.” April growled as she punched out a text on Vik's phone.

**GET YOUR ASS UP TO BAILEYS OFFICE NOW!!!**

  
  


Jackson sat down heavily on his couch and applied the ice pack to his sore knee. This will be the worst, he thought, waiting here to see whether the other Jackson comes through or not.

He wondered what would happen if they were successful. Would he suddenly keel over dead, fulfilling some preordained destiny, while his other self vanished back to his own universe? That couldn't be right.

But what if that, or something like it, were to happen? Suppose they were successful and saved April, sending the other Jackson back to his universe and leaving him to die in a car accident or something? It wasn't too far fetched. It had almost happened this morning saving that Stadler guy. Heck, if he had been a minute earlier that body would have landed on him and killed him. Who would take care of his mother in that case?

He didn't have a lot of options. Really, he could only think of one. And that one was a stretch; a big, big stretch.

  
  


Jackson read the text and cursed. Did I need to spell it out for the dude that he needed to keep this on the down-low? Well, too late now. It was only a matter of time before they started hunting him down. Fortunately, with his long experience now at avoiding detection, he knew every possible hiding place at Grey Sloan. So let the games begin.

But he still had to know when the Taylor woman and the police shooting victim came into the ER. April would undoubtedly be watching Vik like a hawk so he couldn't go there again, even if he wanted to. Who could he use to monitor things and tip him off?

Wait, when he came in it was that intern with the glasses that called to him, until April changed things up. And she had said something weird about _your boyfriend._ Had the other Avery been working with that intern? Maybe there was something there he could take advantage of?

Jackson slipped into a janitorial supply closet and shut the door behind him. He pressed the HOME button to summon Siri. “Call Napoleon Dynamite”. _Napoleon Dynamite_ was the code name he had bestowed on the other Jackson, who had not been amused. He had retaliated by naming Jackson _Doctor Who_ in his contact list. Jackson was pretty sure he had come out ahead in that exchange.

The other Jackson picked up on the second ring.

“Yeah? Any luck?”

“No. No sign of the patients we're looking for. And April's on to me about the Plastics thing and Sloan. I think maybe Bailey is too. It's pretty much a shit storm in here today and I'm scrambling trying to hide out.”

“Hide out? You can't hide out. You've got to be down in the ER when those two patients come in.”

“So that's why I'm calling...” Jackson related the events of the morning and his failed attempt to have Vik monitor the ER intake for him. “And I need someone else who we can count on. I'm wondering if you have done any work with that intern with the glasses?” he concluded.

“You mean Glasses?”

“Yeah, that's what I said, the dude with the glasses.”

“No, no, that's what we call him, Glasses, and yes, he and I have been working together the last few days. He's a good guy. Smart too.”

“Then call him, ask him to look for the Taylor woman, and any GSWs, and have him call me when he sees them come in.”

“Okay”

“Oh and tell him not to let anyone else know he's doing it.”

“And if he asks why?”

“You'll think of something.”

“Yeah, great.”

“Hey, good work on Stadler by the way.”

“Piece of cake, in spite of the jumper that almost landed on me.”

“Jumper?”

“Yeah. What a mess.”

“Okay, you can tell me about it later. Hurry up and call Glasses. Text me when its good.”

“On it.”

Hanging up, Jackson carefully opened the door and peered out into the hallway. When the hallway was clear, he stepped out into it and made for the stairwell. He knew that Alex Karev liked to do rounds on the main floor at eleven, so next stop was the NICU, where he could lay low until the lunch hour opened up a plethora of other hiding places for him.

  
  


Meanwhile, Jackson dialed Glasses number. The intern answered.

“Glasses? It's Jackson.”

“Doctor Avery? Why are you calling me? Doctor Kepner has me working with her today.”

Uh oh. “She's not near you right now, is she?”

“No, do you want me to get her for you?”

“No!” Jackson shouted. “No, Glasses, I need you to do me a favor and we can't let Ap...er... Doctor Kepner know about it. Okay?”

“I guess so, sure. What do you need?”

“I need you to call me when, I mean, if, certain patients come in to the ER.”

“Certain patients?”

“Yes, any GSWs, especially a young man who might have been shot by the police.”

“That's strangely specific, Doctor Avery.” Glasses answered. Jackson read the doubt in his voice.

“Well, the other patient I need you to watch for is even more specific. I need you to call me if a woman named Karin Taylor comes in. She's pregnant and will be in labor earlier than she expects.”

Glasses interrupted him. “Is her husband a paramedic by any chance?”

“Yeah, why”

“Doctor Kepner is delivering her baby right now.”

Oh shit!

  
  


“Are you kidding me right now?” Jackson exclaimed, though he knew, of course, that his other self wasn't.

“You need to get down there and do something before it's too late.”

“How? As soon as April sees me she's going to shut me down and deliver me to Bailey.”

“Well, you have to do something!”

Jackson thought about it for a moment. “If I could get to Matthew's wife without April seeing me..”

“April sees everything that goes on in that ER and Matthew's wife is right in the middle of it.”

“I need to be invisible.”

“Yeah, but you don't have an invisibility cloak.” answered Jackson from his kitchen. Suddenly he sat up straight in his chair. “Wait! We don't have an invisibility cloak but we may have something just as good.”

“Yeah, what's that?”

“A frickin Marauders Map.”

The Jackson in the supply closet looked at his phone. Clearly the accident had damaged his other self's brain more than anyone had thought.

 


	16. Matthew Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April is delivering Karin Taylor's baby in the ER and the Jackson Two are trying to figure out how to do what they need to do to save Matthew's wife.  
> Their pseudo magical solution produces results but also provides further evidence to April that there's more to Jackson than he wants anyone to know.  
> Bailey is also anxious to confront Doctor Avery about her similar suspicions and finally gets a chance when she catches up with him at Owen Hunts bedside.  
> When April arrives there too, Jackson if forced to confront the possibility that there's no escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I posted this chapter and then realized what I had written for the next chapter actually belonged better to this one. Hope nobody got confused by this edit stuff.

“Give me a minute.” his other self had told him. But it was three minutes before he called back.

“Okay, here's what you do...”

And two minutes later, Glasses, appropriately code-named _Glasses,_ was showing up on Jackson's _Find iPhone_ map.

“Okay, this has possibilities.” admitted Jackson. “But how does it help me to know where Glasses is?”

“Because I told him to stick to April like glue.” answered Jackson, refilling the ice in the Ziploc that was acting as his ice pack.

  


“But how does it help you to know where I am?” asked the intern, moments earlier.

“Because I need you to stick to Doctor Kepner like glue.” replied Jackson. “So we know where she is.”

“Okay, I guess I can do that.”

“One more thing. I need you to get her out of the ER for two minutes.”

“How do I do that?” Glasses asked, surreptitiously looking around and happy to see that April was still preoccupied with bringing her exes baby into the world.

“You'll think of something.”

Not very reassured, Glasses sighed. “You're never going to explain all this to me, are you?”

“Believe me, I'm doing you a favor not to.”

Mom was right, the intern thought, I should have been a programmer. “Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll try to get her out of here.”

  


Ten minutes later, Jackson was refreshing his Find iPhone screen madly and getting anxious. Finally, he saw what he was looking for, Glasses phone appeared to be moving toward the door to the ambulance bay. He slipped out of the supply closet and toward the elevators.

  


April followed Glasses out into the ambulance bay. Three gurneys pushed by orderlies and nurses trailed them. “What's the ETA?”

“Three minutes.” answered the intern.

“And we're expecting...?”

MVC, two serious.”

“Two? I thought you said three.”

“Three, right, three serious.” corrected Glasses.

April's eyebrows arched. “Is it two or three?”

“Three, definitely.” answered the nervous intern.

April glared at him. Why was he such a stud with Avery and such a dud with her?

  


Jackson slipped into the treatment room where Karin Taylor lay and was happy to find her alone and asleep. He picked up the chart and unlocked it with April's code, which he had managed to shoulder surf from her his first night in the ER, figuring rightly that it might come in handy. He had just finished entering the low BP condition when he heard a voice behind him.

  


They had been out almost two minutes and April was puzzled as to why they still weren't hearing the sirens approaching. She looked over at Glasses who she found looking at her, then quickly averting his eyes. That was odd. The intern was obviously very nervous. It was odd..., and suspicious.

  


“How is she doing?”

Jackson jumped a little and turned to find Matthew Taylor at the door of the treatment room. It stunned him a little bit. Even though he had seen Matthew from a distance in many many universes now, this was the first time ever he was face to face with the man since he had taken April from him in his own reality. A million memories flooded his mind.

The paramedic reached out his hand. “Matthew, Matthew Taylor. My wife, Karin, how is she doing?”

Automatically, Jackson took the proffered hand and shook it. “Jackson, Doctor Avery that is.” The paramedic still had that strong handshake Jackson acknowledged. This is certainly surreal.

“So, how is she doing?” Matthew repeated.

“Uh, looks okay. Just updated her chart. Apr, uh, Doctor Kepner will come back and check on her soon, I'm sure.”

“Okay. Good. Karin is a little freaked out about it but if there's anyone I trust, it's April.”

“You got that right.” agreed Jackson.

  


“Glasses, where is this intake you dragged us out here for?”

“Uh, I'm not sure. Weird, huh?”

“Weird? Glasses, what the fuck is going on here? Are there ambulances coming or not?”

Hope that was enough time for whatever they are doing. Glasses shrugged, “Must have misheard the call. Maybe it was going to Seattle Pres.”

“Ugh! Let's get the equipment back inside and back to real work.” She glared at Glasses. “Not sure why you've suddenly become dysfunctional but get your butt back in there and stay out of my sight.”

April took two steps then turned and confronted him again. “And congratulations, you've earned yourself a month's worth of Lump and Bump days.”

“But ...”

“Going for three months?” April threatened.

Glasses shook his head violently. As much as he liked working with Jackson, he vowed never to let himself be dragged into one of his weird plots again.

  


“Well, listen, I need to get back out there. Good to meet you.”

“You too.”

“And congrats on that baby. Ruby, right?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Jackson slipped out of the room and made for the elevators just in time to avoid being seen by the fuming April, who was reentering the ER from the ambulance bay, trailed by a chastened Glasses, who was busily removing himself from Jackson's Marauders Map.

  


She found Karin awake but exhausted. Matthew was holding her hand. April was starting to get over the shock of seeing her ex here with his wife; beginning to be able to look at her without imagining herself in her place; starting to accept that the choices she had made had put her here instead and it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

“How are you feeling?” April asked Karin.

“Okay. Tired. And a little sore.”

“All to be expected. Your vitals look good. Your blood pressure is slightly elevated but all within normal ranges.” April picked up the chart and perused it a moment. Suddenly the smile on her face disappeared. She looked around, then went to the door of the treatment room and called to Jo Wilson.

“Wilson, come here please.”

Jo hurried over. “What's up?”

“Did you see anyone in here? Anyone doing anything with this chart?”

“No, I didn't. But I've been busy treating that broken leg in 2.”

“Well someone updated the chart using my login and I want to know who.”

“I know who.”

April was shocked to hear Matthew speak up.

“Who?” she asked.

“Jackson Avery, I think he said his name was.”

Oh My God!

  


“Arizona? Karin Taylor, does she have hypotension?”

“Low BP? I don't remember. Let me pull her history.”

The phone was silent while Arizona accessed the medical records.

The tension in Arizona's voice was palpable when she came on the line again. “Yes! Yes, April she does.”

“Crap! Wilson, book an OR. Arizona meet us there.”

“April, what's her BP?”

“slightly elevated, 120 over 80”

“Fuck! Meet you in the OR.”

  


“April, what's happening?”

“We're not sure but it could be preeclampsia. We're taking her into surgery. Doctor Robbins is meeting us there and she's a frickin rock star so keep the faith.”

“April, please. Ruby needs her mother.”

“Ruby? Is that what you named her?”

Matthew gave her a strange look. “You didn't know? Then how did Avery?”

April stared at the paramedic. Something very very strange was happening in the hospital today and Jackson Avery was somehow at the heart of it. But she had no time right now to give it further thought. Karin Taylor's life was in the balance.

“Let's go.” called Wilson, and April joined her and the others rushing karin's bed to OR Two.

  


They caught it just in time, before the HELLP Syndrome had progressed to DIC. Karin Taylor would live to take her baby home. And only April Kepner knew that she was not the hero responsible.

“Incredible catch, April.” Arizona proclaimed. “And the Kepner legend continues to grow.”

“Give it a rest, Arizona, I told you I didn't make the catch. Someone else did.”

“That's not what the chart says, sweetie. I love your humility but you're taking it a bit too far this time.” Arizona walked out of the OR leaving April to finish scrubbing out.

  


“Matthew, good news. Karin had a very serious complication but we caught it in time. She's in recovery now but we're watching her carefully and I think things look good. Really good.”

Matthew wrapped April in a hug that threatened to cut off her breathing. There were tears in his eyes when he finally released her. “April, honestly I was mad at you for a long time. Then I met Karin and I realized that God knew what he was doing. She's my soulmate, you know. And you, well, God made you our angel. I can never thank you enough.”

And as April struggled to survive another hug, she found herself wondering if perhaps God had sent an angel to Grey Sloan. But she knew it wasn't her.

  


“Avery!” Jackson winced. He had figured it was just a matter of time. But when he realized that the person who was calling his name was Meredith Grey, and not April or Bailey, he felt a measure of relief.

“Meredith.” he answered. “What can I do for you?”

“Let's go. Bringing Hunt out of his coma. Need you to give him the once over before we bring him around.”

Well, Jackson thought, just as good a place to stay out of April's and Bailey's way as any other. He was soon proven to be wrong on both counts.

When they got to Owen's room, Jackson realized Meredith hadn't even bothered to invite Exeter. He felt a little bad about that. He felt even worse when, shortly after beginning his evaluation of the skin grafts progress, Chief Miranda Bailey entered the room. She looked to Jackson like a hungry lioness that had just cornered a fat gazelle.

Finishing his examination, he gave the thumbs up. The grafts were doing very nicely after just twenty four hours and though Hunt still had a ways to go toward full recovery, there was no need to continue the heavy sedation.

Meredith checked his other injuries and pronounced the same verdict, and the anesthesiologist prepared to bring Hunt around. They had begun reducing the sedation immediately after the grafting procedure the previous day in anticipation of bringing Owen around, so actually waking him up proved to be fairly easy.

Oftentimes patients are confused and disoriented coming out of sedation so no one was sure what his mental state would be. But upon opening his eyes, he was immediately able to focus on, and follow the doctors as they spoke to him.

“Oh glory be.” Jackson heard Bailey exclaim quietly into her clasped hands.

Hunts throat tube was removed, he was allowed a few sips of water, and the room erupted when he whispered “Can someone get me some pants, my backside is freezing?”

As Hunt continued to drink his water, Meredith and Bailey filled him in on everything that had happened to him since the night the bus exploded. He beamed when informed that Evie was safe and already home with her mother. And while he accepted the praise and congratulations he stared at Jackson Avery and Jackson knew Hunt was remembering their conversation and it's outcome. Even more to not be able to explain.

Then, just when Jackson was sure his situation couldn't get any worse, April walked in. She grabbed Owen's hand and did not let go, though Jackson noted how often she too looked at him.

And both Hunt and Kepner looked at him steadily as Meredith described the skin grafting procedure he had performed. “And Jackson says that everything looks really good and, if we can keep you out of trouble for awhile, you should make a full recovery.”

“Probably look like Frankenstein from behind though.” Hunt croaked.

“Well, you've never really been Fabio anyway, but I don't think you'll be too disappointed. In a few months, it will probably be back to being your good side.” Jackson smiled.

After a brief moment, Hunt laughed, and the rest of the room did too. April looked at Jackson and wondered _who are you_?

  


“Alright, everyone,” Bailey announced. “back to work. This patient needs some rest and other patient's need some attention, I'm sure. Avery, you're with me, immediately.” The look she gave him brooked no argument. Jackson had no idea how to get out of this mess. And he still had another crisis to head off, which for all he knew, was unfolding already down in the ER.

As Jackson followed Bailey and Meredith out, he noticed that Hunt had kept hold of April's hand and was now whispering something to her. The door closed behind them, leaving Team Trauma alone in the room.

Meredith hurried off and Bailey turned her full attention on Jackson Avery. Either he would take the easy way and tell her the truth or take the hard way and lie to her or play dumb. She almost hoped for the latter. It was so much easier for her to deal with the hard way.

“Doctor Avery, I have some questions about you that require answers. There have been a number of unusual happenings here at my hospital lately and the common thread that binds them together is you.”

With the truth being a non-starter, Jackson fell back on feigned ignorance. “What do you mean, Chief?”

Bailey smiled.

  


“April, we need to talk about Avery.” Owen rasped.

“Avery? What about him?”

”For starters, he's why I'm here in this bed.”

  


“I understand from Doctor Kepner that you suddenly left the ER without explanation on the night of the power failure.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Why?”

“When the power went out, I thought I should go check to see what was wrong with the backup generators.”

“I recall leaving Doctor Webber in charge in my absence. I do not recall giving you that responsibility.”

  


“...and he was right about everything, April.., everything.”

“Oh my God.”

“Now what's this about him doing my skin grafts?”

  


“Why would you possibly think it was your place to do that? How would you even know about the generators?” Are you an expert on Facilities now too?”

“No ma'am. Richard and a man from Facilities came through the ER just as the power went out and I saw Doctor Webber send him off. Then when the power failed and stayed down, I saw Rich...er... Doctor Webber go off too. I followed shortly afterwards in case they needed help.” Jackson had to concede this story was pretty weak.

  


“But how could he possibly have those skills?”

“That's another thing, he lied to me and told me he learned from Mark Sloan.”

“Sloan?”

  


“So you figured that Doctor Webber and Facilities couldn't handle the problem so you took it on yourself to go assist, leaving an ER full of patients? Have I got that right?”

“Well, we needed the power back on asap so I thought maybe I could lend a hand.”

“And this whim of yours led you right to where Doctor Webber was electrocuted.”

“God was looking out for him, I guess.” Jackson hoped Bailey's little _glory be_ in Hunt's room had been an indication of a broader belief in a higher power.

“Uh huh.” Chief Miranda Bailey answered. God or no God, it was clear to her that Jackson Avery was full of shit and keeping something from her. Well, she would let him think he had won this round because, after all, he had no chance in the next.

“Let's talk about how you have suddenly emerged with elite Plastics skills and technique.”

And now I'm fucked, Jackson acknowledged.

  


“But why lie about that?” Hunt asked her.

“I don't know. I've been asking myself that same thing, over and over. And there's more; today, he somehow caught something he had no way of knowing about, on a patient he's never even examined. And he tried to cover his tracks on that too. I don't know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know whether to expose him or try to help him.”

“Well, April, I can't tell you what to do here but I think you've got to ask yourself something.”

“What?”

“Is what he's doing helping or hurting? Because if whatever he's up to is saving lives, I think you might have your answer.”

  


Bailey moved in for the kill. “I examined the girl from the bus, Evie, and the suturing you did on her was first rate. The kind of first rate work that can't be matched by any other doctor west of the Mississippi. In fact, I've only ever seen that kind of skill and technique once before in my whole career.”

Jackson remained silent, vainly searching for some lie or story that would allow him to escape this situation long enough to complete his mission. It was so tantalizingly close.

“And Hunt. I'd been about to call all over the country to find a plastics surgeon with enough experience and skill to adequately care for him. But before I can do that, my Ears, Nose and Throat specialist pops up and saves the day. You impressed Meredith Grey enough to convince her to let you take over Hunt's treatment.”

Jackson opened his mouth to remind her that Cleveland Exeter was still the doctor of record for Hunt but she wasn't going to give him a chance to float even that weak ass argument.

“Uh UH, don't even say it. Now tell me, how does Jackson Avery, ENT, acquire the skills and experience to perform so brilliantly that we are already talking about bringing Owen Hunt back before the year is over?”

Jackson was about to admit that he had no explanation when ...”

“Sloan. Mark Sloan mentored him. They did a lot of Plastics pro bono at Children's.”

Both Bailey and Jackson turned. April Kepner had emerged from Owen Hunt's room.

“He learned it all from Sloan.”

 

“So we both know the Seattle Children's story is bullshit, right?”

They were walking back toward the ER, having left a very frustrated Miranda Bailey standing in the hallway outside Owen Hunt's room.

“Yes, I know that. I just don't know why you have to lie about it.” April answered. She had almost said _lie to ME_ , but had caught herself just in time.

“You'd never believe me if I told you.” Jackson answered.

“Neither would Bailey, apparently. But I thought maybe you'd treat me a little differently than her.”

“Why would that be?”

“Because I thought you might have feelings for me.” she answered without looking for his reaction.

Jackson pulled up short and so she was forced to stop and turn around. His face displayed an expression she could not name.  _Tortured_ would be as close as she could come.

“I do have feelings for you. I have lots of feelings for you.” He remembered saying this to his own April in his own reality but it seemed many seasons ago, not that that made any difference. “But this is complicated..., much too complicated to explain.”

“That's the sort of thing that tends to undercut the sincerity of the feelings part.” she answered, unsure of what she really wanted from him. Was it just to sate her curiosity? Or was it more? Something deeper? Too deep to admit to?

“I'm sorry. But I can't be the one to explain it. It's not my place. But I will tell you this. It's all for you. All of it. And it's all because those feelings exist. And they are too powerful to be contained. You need to know that. You need to know that you are loved. Though you may never understand everything that's happening.”

“I don't understand anything that's happening. I don't understand how you knew that bus was going to crash and that child would be in the back of it. I don't understand how you knew to go rescue Richard Webber that night. I don't understand how you are a skilled plastic surgeon who can perform miraculous skin grafting to save my closest friend. I don't understand how you knew that Karin Taylor was hypotensive and had preeclampsia without ever seeing her and somehow knew they had named their baby Ruby without anyone telling you.” April stepped closer to him. “I don't understand how you can stand there and say I'm loved when I've done everything I can to keep you from even liking me and my life is a mess and I think I hate God, and I'm not a good doctor because I can't keep bad things from happening.”

And, at last, Jackson found himself in a familiar position, his arms wrapped around April, her face buried in his chest, her tears soaking his lab coat. It was where he belonged, in any universe.

 


	17. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimension hopping Jackson's time in this universe comes to an end, but in a way neither Jackson expected.  
> And this dimension's Jackson must make the ultimate decision.

They rode the elevator in silence.

Exiting and turning into the ER, the first thing Jackson did was look for a wounded twelve year old accompanied by police officers. But he saw neither patient nor police.

April noticed his frown. “What now?”

“Nothing.”

She knew that his _nothing_ was anything but, but she recognized the futility of expecting any sort of explanation or confidence from him. Whatever game he was playing, he was keeping it to himself, even though he had told her it _was all for her_. She would have to trust him. And against all reason, that's what she had decided to do.

Two hours later, April's shift ended. Jackson's eyes watched her cross the ER and headed for the Attending's locker room. She could tell something was bothering him but she knew better than to ask.

Strange as it was for him to admit it, what was bothering Jackson was that no police shooting victims had been brought into Grey Sloan that day. In fact, there had been no GSWs at all. And this missing Matthew Day crisis was playing hell with all their theories and plans.

There had _always_ been a police shooting. It had _always_ thrown April for a loop. It had been the one crisis that Jackson had been intimately involved in. But now she was going home, he hadn't jumped, and he had absolutely no idea what could be coming next.

Had he been wrong about the connection between her crisis of faith and demise? Was the grim reaper still out there waiting for her? Was he himself now stuck here forever? These were all questions going through his mind as he ducked into a quiet corner of the ER and called the other Jackson.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Uh, where are you calling from right now?” Jackson asked from his kitchen table.

“Well, my plan doesn't cover wormholes or inter dimensional calling so...”

“Okay then, not to be rude but why are you still here?”

“Eric, the twelve year old GSW, never happened.” Jackson sighed.

“What? I thought he was a sure thing?”

“He always has been. But not this time. Now April is off shift and heading home.”

“Home or to a bar?”

“Home, I think. We saved the Taylor woman.” Jackson heard his other self let out a whoop.

“Nice!”

“Yeah, but we still have some problems. April's crisis may have been averted but she might still be in danger. And we have some trouble here too. Bailey has been put off for now but as soon as she starts digging she's going to figure out some stuff is not on the up and up. And April flat out knows things are whack and it's only a matter of time before she starts demanding answers.”

“Which we can't give her.”

“Right.” Jackson paused. “And then there's the little matter of two Jackson Averys.”

“We do have some problems. Well, let's regroup and figure this out. You're off in an hour right?”

“Right. But, listen, I don't think we should leave April alone. I'll see if she's up for you to go over later.”

“Me?”

“Yes. This is your reality and your April and my usefulness is kind of over.”

“No, man, I still need you.” protested the other Jackson.

“Maybe, but April needs YOU. So get yourself together. Either make up a good story for how you managed to get yourself banged up between now and two hours from now or prepare yourself to tell her some pretty wild truth. Unless, of course, you prefer I go spend the night with her?“

“Yeah, no chance.” Jackson answered. After a brief pause, he continued, “Jackson? Thanks.”

Jackson smiled. “We Jackson Averys have to stick together.” he answered.

 

Jackson flipped the TV on while he got himself ready to leave. The knee was doing much better after a day of ice and elevation. And the shoulder only ached a little now. He could probably hide those injuries if he made a concerted effort. His stitched up lip was another story. No way to hide that or the fact they were not fresh. He would have to tell her something.

While he mused about the possibilities, the early news came on.

 

As always, April came back through the ER on her way home. Even though Jo Wilson was a competent Chief Resident and very capable of running the Pit until the night shift took over, April liked to make sure everything was ship shape before she left. Plus, Jackson had another hour to put in and she wanted to see if he would come over afterwards. Her interest was purely informational, she told herself. It had nothing at all to do with what he had said and the way he had held her while she sobbed.

She approached him but before she could say anything, he did.

“April, I know it's been a crazy day and you're probably exhausted, but I'd really like to come over. I feel like we need to talk. Maybe I can even give you a few answers.”

“I'd like that, Jackson.”

“Great. I'll head over after I get off then. How about I bring over some dinner? You like Chinese, right?”

“Yes, love it.”

“Okay, Kung Pao Chicken, Mongolian Beef, and Stir Fry.”

“Perfect.” she answered. “And would you mind asking for..?”

“Extra Fortune Cookies.” he added automatically. Damn it!

She looked at him carefully for a long moment. “Yeah, a few answers would be nice.”

He nodded. Sorry, Jackson, my friend, but I think you're gonna have a lotta splainin to do. He looked out the window. “Uh oh, looks like its raining again.”

 

Jackson was just exiting the living room when the something on the TV drew him back into it.

 

April left just as fresh intake pulled up. Jackson pulled on his coat as he rushed out to the rig.

 

“Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jackson frantically pulled out his phone to call Jackson back. “Pick up, pick up, pick UP!”

 

“Head lac. Needs a head CT, stat.”

“Hellmouth.” Wilson addressed intern Taryn. “Get him over to imaging quick, before the day guy goes home.”

“On it.” answered Taryn.

Jackson fished his phone out of his pocket. “Hey, I was about to call you. You need to stop and pick up...”

Jackson never finished his sentence. Jo Wilson looked on dumbfounded as he suddenly turned and sprinted back out into the ambulance bay.

 

April rounded the corner of the building and headed for the parking lot, checking the email on her phone. She only looked up when she found her way blocked.

“Well well, April, not quite the person I most wanted to see but you'll do for a start.” Paul Stadler hit her with a hard right to her jaw that knocked her unconscious for a few seconds. She awoke to the awful pain of being dragged by her hair into the thickly foliaged landscaping. Too stunned to cry out, she had just enough senses left to understand she was in deep, deep, trouble.

 

The police cruiser came around the corner just in time for the officer driving to see the light skinned black man sprinting from the Emergency Entrance. “Now what's that about?” Officer Nicki Fells asked aloud. She turned the wheel to follow.

 

Jackson was running all out now. Stadler was being sought for murder, the other Jackson had told him. The police believed he had killed his girlfriend and thrown her from the twentieth floor to disguise the crime. Now they were hunting him. They were hunting the man the Jacksons had gone to great lengths to save that morning because they thought Jo would be devastated if he died. But they had gotten it wrong hadn't they? Jo had been upset because the guy had been in the building. And he was a danger to her. And he had heard how April had put herself between them. A creep like that wouldn't forget that, would he?

 

Paul Stadler stood over April, his face a mask of cold hatred. “You stupid bitch. You couldn't keep your damn nose out of it, could you?” He kicked her hard in her side. Her senses were slowly coming back to her, enough to register the pain of the blow and to guess that he might have broken a rib or two.

April managed to spit the blood from her lacerated tongue out. “Fuck you!” she croaked.

“Oh, I'm going to enjoy this.” Stadler growled, drawing his leg back for another kick. But he never delivered it.

 

With a roar Jackson burst through the bushes and barreled into Stadler. The force of the impact carried both men some six feet past April and ended with Jackson atop the other surgeon, pummeling him with a frightening fury.

Jackson would probably have killed Paul Stadler if not for two voices.

“Jackson, stop. Don't kill him.” April said weakly.

Almost simultaneously a much louder voice called “Freeze!”

 

Officer Fells had driven past the bushes the running man had entered and exited her cruiser. Her baton in her left hand, her right hand on her holstered service weapon, Nicki Fells cautiously approached what sounded like a very physical altercation.

Penetrating the landscaping she observed the running man atop another, savagely beating his face in. Meanwhile an injured woman was pulling herself up against the building wall a short distance away. Officer Fells noted that both the woman the man being beaten were caucasian. The assailant, as she automatically categorized him in her mind, black.

“Freeze!” she repeated. The assailant immediately stopped punching the man underneath him and rose to his feet, simultaneously bringing his hands behind his head and locking his fingers. It was something he had learned to do a long time ago.

But rather than putting Officer Fells at ease, it had the opposite effect. Jackson was tall and well built while Nicki Fells topped out at 5'7. She dropped her baton and drew her weapon, assuming the stance she was trained to use, and pointed it at Jackson Avery.

Things might still have worked out if not for an ironic twist of fate and the evil cleverness of Paul Stadler.

When Jackson raised his hands above his head, his coat fell open. The inside breast pocket of his coat held the socket wrench that had been chosen by the very same Jackson because, on cursory observation, it resembled a gun in shape and size.

Nicki Fells saw the suspicious outline in the pocket and asked “What's that?”, immediately tensing even further.

Paul Stadler climbed to his feet, wiping the blood flowing from his broken nose, closely observing Officer Fells, looking for an opportunity to exploit. And very unfortunately for everyone else, Jackson provided one.

Jackson, upon hearing the officer's question looked down at his pocket and smiled, “That? Oh that's just...” Without thinking he began to bring his hand down toward his pocket.

It was just what Paul Stadler was hoping for. “Gun!” he yelled.

Officer Fells fired three shots in quick succession, each one striking Jackson in the chest, and throwing him back against the wall of the building where he struck and then slid down, leaving a bloody trail. The bloody socket wrench fell from the pocket into his lap.

April screamed. “Nooo! Jackson! Nooo!”

Upon seeing the wrench, Nicki Fells lowered her weapon, and stepped toward Jackson, distraught. “Oh God! I thought it was a gun. I thought it was a gun!” she repeated.

Both women were so focused on Jackson that neither noticed Paul Stadler pick up Officer Fells police baton from where she had dropped it. Too late she remembered the other man behind her and as she turned he brought the baton hard across the side of her head.

April, having crawled to Jackson's side, was only vaguely aware of Stadler picking up the officer's service weapon, striking her again with the baton where she lay for good measure, then casually coming over to where Jackson slumped against the base of the wall, dying.

“Racist bitch. See what she did to your friend here?” he remarked, briefly looking to see where the bullets had entered Jackson. “Well, even if we had him in the OR right now, it would be hopeless. Too bad. I remember this guy. He saved my life this morning. Pity I couldn't do the same for him tonight. At least I gave the cunt some payback.”

He looked at April. “Say your goodbyes but be quick. We have someplace to be. Speaking of which, if it's any consolation, you'll be seeing this one again pretty soon.”

April, feeling completely numb again, looked at Jackson. She was surprised to see his eyes trying to focus on hers. Trying and failing. Then his lips moved. She brought her ear close to them, hoping to hear his last words.

“April” he whispered through the blood filling his throat and lungs. “He's coming. Have faith.” he managed. Then he was gone.

“Time to go find my sweet little ex.” Stadler said, pulling April to her feet by her hair. He put the gun to April's head. “I'm guessing the ER.” He began to walk her back toward Grey Sloan's ER entrance.

 

Jackson put the pedal to the floor and Matrix' small engine whined in protest, but it jumped forward just the same. He had a bad feeling about all this. Although there was no clear reason to believe Paul Stadler was a threat to April, the other Jackson had immediately made that leap. And he hadn't been able to reach either him or April since.

Jackson guided the little car into the turning lane in order to pass a line of cars waiting at a stoplight. That had earned him a few middle fingers, horn blasts, and undoubtedly questions about his parentage. But he didn't care. Grey Sloan was just two blocks away now.

Approaching the hospital, Jackson saw the police cruiser, it's light bar activated, left in a driveway. There was no sign of a police officer though. His first thought was that his other self had summoned the police just in case. But the way the police car was parked didn't seem to fit that scenario. He had a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.

He pulled the Matrix over and parked it behind the police unit, leaving the engine running in case he needed to come back and park it legally.

As Jackson began to walk around the corner to go to the ER, he heard a sound in the bushes. Following his ears he pushed his way through the landscaping and discovered the source of the sounds. The police radio attached to the shoulder of the fallen officer was squawking. Jackson didn't know what the codes he heard repeated over the radio meant though. What he did know was that the police officer was dead. And beyond her, slumped against the building, lay another body.

“Oh Fuck!. Oh God! This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to die. We were supposed to save her and send you back to save your April. Oh fuck!”

Jackson felt for a pulse though it was obvious his other self was dead. Then he remembered. Where was April? He got out his phone and, with shaking hands, dialed her number. Six feet away, her phone rang. Oh God.

 

Stadler dragged and pushed April into the ER. It took a few seconds for anyone to recognize that he was holding a gun to her head.

“Brooke.” he called. “Better come out before I decide to blow her pretty red hair and brains all over the ER.”

Jo Wilson stepped out of a treatment room. “Let her go, Paul. This is between you and me.” Wilson told him in a trembling voice.

“Too late for that, Brooke. You should have told her that yesterday. But you made a lot of mistakes yesterday, didn't you?”

“Please, let her go. Then I'll do anything you want. Go anywhere you want to go. Just let her go before this gets any worse.”

“Too late for that, too, Brooke. Too late for that cop bitch. Too late for that doctor who tried to be a hero. Just too damn late for any of it.”

Wilson froze at that. _Doctor that tried to be a hero_? Had Stadler hurt or killed Alex?

“Alright,” Stadler yelled, “everybody out. I just want Brooke and Kepner and me in here. I see anybody else and I start shooting, starting with these two.”

The ER quickly cleared.

 

Jackson saw the exodus of the people through the ER entrance. He saw Glasses amongst the crowd.

“Glasses, what's happening in there?”

Glasses quickly explained that a gunman was holding Wilson and Kepner and threatening to kill them.

“But don't worry, I'm sure the police SWAT is on the way and they'll probably just shoot the guy.”

Jackson doubted Stadler was going to wait for that to happen. “Glasses, where are they, exactly?”

 

Ben Warren, spending his last week at Grey Sloan before becoming a firefighter, helped to usher staff and patients onto the elevator. He had no intention of joining them however. He too recognized that Stadler wouldn't prolong this long enough for the police to arrive. So he would do what he could. When Alex Karev stepped off the elevator, with a face carved from stone, he knew it would be the two of them.

 

Stadler threw April at Jo and leveled the weapon at both of them. “Did you really think I'd let you take Jenny away from me? Did you think I'd just let her walk away; disappear like you did? You stupid cunt. I decide what she does and when. She doesn't leave until I send her away. But you just had to meddle in it, didn't you? Well, all you did was speed up my decision. That and the manner of her departure. I just wish she had still been alive during her twenty story trip.”

 

Jackson crept into the ER. Stadler had the women in a part of the room that would make it impossible to get to him quickly, either from the elevators or the ambulance entrance. To make matters worse for him, Stadler was now facing toward him, meaning that as soon as he came around the corner, the gunman would see him, and have plenty of time to gun down the women.

Then he noticed the two men opposite him, on the elevator side of the room. Warren and Karev were poised just around that corner, with a little farther to go perhaps. The only thing better about their position was they were a little behind Stadler's right shoulder so it might take him a second longer to notice them if they tried to rush him. He'd still have ample time to kill the women.

 

“You killed her?” Jo asked.

“No, Brooke, you did. You've killed all of us.” Stadler raised the gun.

The men on both sides of the ER knew they had run out of time. Jackson could see Ben and Alex tense. But they would be too late. If they had a few extra seconds they might get there in time but otherwise … If only he could divert Stadler's attention. If only he could somehow get between him and the women, between him and April.

In his mind he saw Jackson's bloody body slumped against a wall. He could see April's sleeves were soaked with blood as well. And he could almost hear a voice in his head telling him that was the way, if he were willing to pay the price; the ultimate price; for her.

Jackson closed his eyes a moment. He was willing.

Jackson signaled to Karev and Warren, then stepped out and around the corner. His appearance had the desired effect.

 

Stadler saw him, did a quick double-take, and stared disbelieving at him as Jackson slowly approached April and Jo.

“That's impossible. You're dead.”

The two women, following Stadler's gaze, turned their heads, and saw him.

Jackson saw April's face and heard her gasp. Her expression confirmed his guess. That was Jackson's blood on her sleeves. He had likely died in her arms. Now this could be breaking her mind. But it was chance he had to take. He only hoped the effect on Stadler was close to the same, strong enough to buy him a few more feet of ER.

It was. Stadler stood stunned, the gun waving back and forth as he gaped at Jackson.

“You're dead.” he repeated.

Jackson refrained from saying anything until he reached the spot he was aiming for.

“Apparently not.” he finally answered, coming to a stop. “And no one else has to be either. If you just put down the gun, we can figure this out.” Jackson didn't have much hope for this working but he had to try.

Stadler was clearly stunned by his appearance. The gun remained raised at shoulder level but no longer being aimed.

Jackson continued, “You are a doctor. You took an oath to preserve life. You've spent your life healing. Don't flush that all away.”

“It's too late.” whispered Stadler.

“It's never too late until you stop breathing.” Jackson replied. Maybe this was going to work after all? “I mean, look at me.”

Instantly, Jackson knew he had made a mistake. Stadler's eyes told him that. He had foolishly reminded the gunman about the bodies outside and how it really was too late for him.

The gun came back to point at the women and Jackson knew there would be no more talk.

“Alex!” he called, and stepped in front of April and Wilson.

 

It's a simple thing for most of us, to take a step, with some notable exceptions. “ _One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind._ ” is what the first man to set foot on the moon had said. And, of course, we like to celebrate a baby's first steps. But most of us will never claim to take a momentous step in our entire lives. But the late Stephen Hawking might disagree. He might say that our simple, ordinary steps in this universe could be changing the course of history in others, particularly if they are made for the cause of love.

 

Jackson dived into the icy waters where April's car had disappeared. Somehow he was being given another chance. And this time he would not fail, though he knew that his own death awaited him below.

 

Jackson rushed up the staircase through the flames. He would not be turned back this time.

 

“Jackson?” she gasped as he threw himself on top of her in the Jordanian field hospital they were volunteering in, a half second before the bomb exploded above them.

 

“Jackson?” Maggie Pierce asked, when he suddenly gasped and grabbed his chest. “Are you having a heart attack?”

 

Stadler fired three shots before being swarmed by Karev and Warren. The first two ripped into Jackson's chest, so like the ones that killed his other self minutes ago. The third, thrown off by the impact of Alex Karev's flying body against him, went harmlessly into the wall.

Jackson, who had sunk to the floor, when his body no longer seemed able to obey him, was dimly aware of a fourth shot. It sparked some concern for him as he registered that he was no longer shielding April. But he was reassured when her face appeared above his. Framed in the ER lights, she appeared to have a halo, a red halo. As his consciousness drifted away to blackness his last thought was that April Kepner would be the last thing he would ever see. He could die with that.

 


	18. From Chaos, Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Jacksons have died for her. But is that the end of their stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long delay in getting this final chapter out. Real life, canon induced demotivation, and multiple distractions made it difficult for me to get this done. But thank you for your patience and hopefully it is a good enough ending to earn me a little forgiveness and you a little pleasure.  
> While this is the last chapter there may be a short epilogue to follow but no promises.  
> Thank you for reading and especially for any comments you may have left. They mean so much.
> 
> On a personal note- with just a few more April episodes left to us I'm not certain how I will react to Sarah/April's departure (other than never watching another episode of Greys). I may be inspired to write more fics but it's just as likely I won't so this may be it for me. I want to thank everyone who has so kindly shared Japril with me over the last year. It's a crazy, wonderful, passionate, tortured fandom and I've loved being part of it. Thank you all so much! :-)

Jackson Avery again found himself sprinting, leaving a surprised and confused Maggie Pierce standing, mid-sentence, at the hospital entrance. He had no time to explain. He had a train to catch, or, rather, to beat.

 

April stood on the crowded train platform. Next to her, Vik the intern had his hands in the pockets of his coat and grinned like an idiot, unable to believe his luck. He was going to nail April Kepner. And she was the one who had picked him up. He wondered if she'd make him wear a condom?

April knew she was about to do something wrong, very wrong, but she didn't give a darn. Check that, she didn't give a damn. She had endured a day from Hell, which was really just the icing on what was turning into the year from Hell, and starting to think that maybe she had been rooting for the wrong team all these years.

First, that whole Webber episode and Jackson, along with the rest of Grey Sloan, heaping abuse on her for what? Doing her job. Then the thing in Montana with Jackson. She had been so sure that was it, the turning point, the beginning of a new beginning for them. But all it had led to instead was a painful and confusing period with her growing increasingly uncomfortable around him and he steadily moving farther away from her than ever.

Then the whole Maggie thing happened and her hope collapsed on itself. With him apparently moving on, she realized she had to move out. And he hadn't uttered a word of protest, cementing her conviction that he wanted it but just hadn't wanted to ask for it.

For weeks now she had tried, unsuccessfully, to adapt to this new normal of having her child half time and a support network that was neither supportive, nor much of a network. All her friends were wrapped up in their own little dramas and didn't care much about hers. It figured, she guessed, since failed relationship train wrecks were a dime a dozen at Grey Sloan. She could count on one finger the number of stable relationships at the hospital.

But she was coping, until today, when the bottom dropped out and it was no longer possible to believe she was a good doctor, that the system designed to protect them was a good system, or that the God she had believed in and trusted throughout her life, had any love or compassion for his earthly children.

She was Job, without the faith of Job, and when it came to God testing her, she had decided what was good for the goose was good for the Gander and she would do a little testing of her own. And if God lost some coin to Satan in the process, all the better. After all, what had all the praying and doing the right thing gotten her?

  
Jackson was still half a block from the station when he heard the train horn blow in the distance. It would be close. He tried to call forth even more speed, and to remember the details of a police report yet to written.

  
Hearing the horn blow, the people seated on the benches stood up and crowded forward. This commuter express was always crowded and no one wanted to be left standing after a long day at work.

April found herself pushed forward, toward the tracks, by the crowd. It wasn't uncommon for her petite size to invite that sort of jostling. A few young men forced their way between Vik and herself and she found herself carried to the very edge of the platform.

“Hey, knock it off.” she said, in no mood to be bullied tonight.

“Fuck you.” one of the men said.

“No, fuck you.” said a man's voice behind her. Apparently he also found the jerk's behavior offensive.

The young guy turned and made a motion as though he were going to throw a punch, which had the unfortunate effect of making the people behind April shift to avoid it. One of those shifts was abruptly against April's back and she found herself falling forward with nothing to arrest her fall.

  
Jackson had just reached the station when he heard a woman scream, followed shortly by the train's horn, very close now. He hurdled the ticket gate and dived headlong into the back of the crowd, whose attention was now being drawn to the front of the platform. A woman near the front screamed again. Jackson heard a voice say “I think a woman just jumped down onto the tracks.”

He threw the people in front of him out of his way. There was no time to be polite. After what seemed like minutes, but were in reality only seconds, he reached the front of the crowd. The light from the oncoming train illuminated the scene. A woman standing at the edge of the platform was looking down as she screamed again. A older gentleman was kneeling at the platforms edge. Everyone else just stood and stared. Without hesitation, Jackson leaped.

He almost landed atop of her. The tracks were a good four feet below the platform and as he came down he twisted to avoid hitting her. It caused him to land awkwardly against the rail and he felt his ankle give way. But he stayed upright somehow and managed to pick up the stunned trauma surgeon and in the same motion swing her upward toward the platform, hoping against hope that someone there would reach for her. And his effort was rewarded. The elderly man who knelt at the platforms edge grabbed April and fell backwards, pulling her onto the platform with him. He had done it. April was safe.

Jackson leaned against the platform. Even healthy he had no time to hoist himself up and onto the platform before the train got to him. His injured ankle negated even the possibility of an attempt. He could only look at Aprils face as she came back to her senses laying on the platform. At least, Jackson reflected, her face would be his last sight on earth. He could die with that.

Her eyes suddenly cleared and widened. And then she launched herself at him. What the F...?

 

  
The woman followed the pretty caretaker down the hallway. “This is her room.”

“Are you sure it's alright to see her?”

“Of course. We were all very sorry to hear about her son being shot.”

“Has she been told?” the woman asked.

“No, she wouldn't really understand. And it might upset her.”

“I understand. I won't say anything.” the woman promised.

“Thank you. Now let's go in.”

“Mrs Avery? Catherine? You have a visitor.”

Catherine Avery sat in her usual spot by the window, looking out at the world. But she turned when the two women entered her room and smiled.

“Catherine, this is... I'm sorry, I forgot your last name.”

“Kepner, April Kepner.” the woman with the red hair answered.

“Yes, Doctor Kepner. She came to visit you, Catherine.”

Catherine's smile broadened. “Well, I'll just let you two ladies alone then.” said the caretaker, Latisha, and she left the room.

“Mrs Avery, it's so good to meet you. I feel like I know you already.”

April pulled a blood stained envelope from her purse. “Your son wrote me this letter telling me all about you. It made me want to meet you so badly. You see, your son saved my life. And in this letter he asked if I might look in on you, in case he wasn't able to. So here I am.”

Catherine Avery smiled.

  
  


I'm alive. I'm frickin alive, he thought. And so is April, for the moment at least. The edge of the train passing over them was a blur, even though it was braking as quickly as possible. Jackson held April as tightly against him as he could, lest some protruding train part snatch her from his grasp. Her lunge had caught him entirely off guard. The surprise and, ironically, his damaged ankle, had allowed her to knock him over and they had fallen between the tracks and rolled out of the path of the oncoming train with a half second to spare. Now they lay where they had fallen, April on top of him, his arms around her.

The train finally came to a stop. And then all sorts of alarms were going off and emergency vehicle sirens could already be heard approaching. All the sounds together were deafening. Which is why he didn't hear the first thing she said. So she repeated it.

“Are you fricking suicidal?”

“Me?” he answered, incredulously, “You were the one laying on the damn tracks? I saved your life!”

They lay sandwiched between the northbound and southbound rails, where her momentum had carried them.

“Well I saved yours so we're even.” she shot back.

“You wouldn't have had to if I hadn't had to go down there and get you.” This wasn't the gratitude he was expecting. Although, he had to admit, he had actually expected to be dead by now.

“What, you think I jumped down there on purpose? I was pushed by those nitwits behind me. What's your excuse?”

“You. You're my excuse.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You're my excuse for just about every crazy thing I've ever done.”

April looked at him. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means you make me crazy. It means you make my life crazy. But it also means you come to me when your life is crazy. Like today for instance.”

“What do you know about that?” She struggled against him but they were pinned by the overhang of the train cars on both sides of them. Jackson could hear voices shouting close by.

“You'd be surprised. I know that you had some tough losses today but you probably don't know that none of them were your fault.”

April stopped trying to tear herself from his arms. She looked at him doubtfully. “How can you say that?”

“Because it's true. Stadler didn't die because of you. He died because he was a bad guy and was trying to attack Wilson when he tripped and cracked his skull again. And Eric would probably still be alive if Bailey and I had listened to you and taken him to surgery right away instead of being too cautious.”

“Even so...” April choked out.

“April, Karin Taylor was naturally hypotensive. It wasn't in her chart so you had no way of knowing. If you had, you would have caught it right away. I am one hundred percent sure of that.” Jackson in fact was one hundred percent sure but he couldn't tell her why.

“How do you know that?” she asked skeptically.

“I heard it from Arizona.” he answered truthfully. He didn't see the need to add that Arizona told him this the day after tomorrow.

At last. At last he saw some light returning to her eyes. But then he saw it flicker and die again.

“But David, the patient who tried to cut off his hands because of the Bible, he's just as broken as when he came in.”

This was one Jackson had no idea about. “How can you be blamed for that?”

“How can I not be? How can I not be able to give him any answers? How can I, of all people, not be able to heal his faith in God? How can I lose my faith myself? How can I tell him to be faithful when I think I hate God right now?”

They heard voices nearby; “Here they are! Well I'll be damned, they're alive!”

  
  


The light was very bright, blindingly so in fact. Huh, so all those movies had it right all along. Then his eyes focused and he realized he was staring at a fluorescent light fixture on the ceiling. What kind of afterlife had fluorescent lights? What kind of afterlife had _ceilings_?

“He's awake! Holy shit, Alex, he's awake!” he heard a female voice he didn't immediately recognize say.

“Page Bailey and Meredith.” he heard a man say. It sounded like...

Suddenly Alex Karev's face was hovering in front of his, shining a small flashlight into his eyes, presumably to assess his pupillary light reflex. Okay, this is definitely not Heaven if Alex Karev is here with a flashlight. Wait, when did I start believing in Heaven?

“Pupils equal, round, and reactive to light and accommodation.” Karev announced. Wilson appeared at his side.

Jackson wanted to say something but the endotracheal tube wouldn't allow it. Jesus, he was intubated! Whatever landed him in this bed must have been serious as fuck. Then he remembered. I was shot.

“Whoa, heartrate just zinged” Wilson said, watching the monitor.

“Yeah, I think he just connected some dots.” Karev said. “Jackson, calm down buddy. We got you.”

Jackson saw Karev and Wilson suddenly look toward the door.

“When?”

“Just a minute ago.”

Bailey's face appeared on the other side of the bed. “And?”

“Good response to light. Jackson, can you move your fingers?”

Yes, of course I can move my fingers, watch. Jackson wiggled his fingers.

“Alert, attentive and following commands.” Karev announced.

Why is a pediatric surgeon doing my neurological assessment, Jackson wondered?

“Jackson, this is Miranda Bailey. Do you know where you are?”

Jackson nodded.

“Do you know why you're here? Do you remember?”

He shook his head. It was all very foggy. Then he remembered something more; April.

“There go his stats again.” said Wilson.

Karev leaned over him. “I think I know why. It's okay buddy. April's fine. You saved her.”

“You saved both of us.” Wilson added. Her eyes were glistening with moisture.

Jackson exhaled and his heart rate began returning to normal. Besides the tube in his throat, only one thing bothered him... if April was fine, where the hell was she?

  
  


It took awhile to figure it out, but the rescue workers were finally able to extricate first April, and then Jackson, from between the trains. Both were loaded on gurneys, Jackson because of his possibly broken ankle, and April because he had informed the paramedics that she may have a head injury. She hadn't liked that and had shot him a venomous look.

But it hadn't bothered him too much. The look of disappointment on intern Vik's face was more than adequate compensation.

Soon, both had been delivered to the Grey Sloan ER, where April's mood got even fouler for having to follow Jo Wilson's instructions.

After getting a head CT and undergoing a neuro assessment, she was finally released. Exiting the ER she was annoyed to see Jackson Avery sitting on a bench, a pair of crutches beside him, apparently waiting for her.

April walked by him without pausing. He got up from the bench and followed as quickly as his crutches allowed. “April, come on.” he called to her but her quick pace was really challenging his ability to keep up. “April, wait, please.”

She continued to ignore him but stopped finally when she heard him fall and curse. Rounding on him she came back to where he lay, holding his ankle.

“What do you want, Jackson? Do you want my gratitude? Do you want some sort of reward? Did you miss being with Maggie tonight? Is that it? Shall I sleep with you to make it up to you? Or maybe you should make it up to me. Because, guess what, I was in the process of taking that intern back to my place to screw him.”

“I knew that.”

“What?”

“I mean I figured that. You know, when I saw him on the platform with you.”

April shook her head. “You're something else, you know that?”

She turned to resume her walk to the parking lot.

“Hey, can you give me a lift?”

April stopped and turned again, giving him an incredulous stare.

  
  


It was Bailey herself that performed Jackson's extubation. She then sent Wilson and Karev to get some food and rest and take care of any patients that needed them.

“You know that between those two and Kepner, you haven't been alone for even a minute since the shooting.” she told him. She didn't mention that she also had been taking shifts at his bedside.

Jackson, unable to speak yet, merely looked at her.

“Do you remember anything?”

Jackson shrugged his shoulders. He didn't remember much. He remembered shots being fired in the ER and April Kepner's face framed by lights, but that was about it. Even that came back to him as bits and pieces, like dreams that fade from memory upon awakening.

“A little, huh? It's a miracle that you remember anything. Actually, it's a miracle that you're even alive and your brain isn't scrambled. But you owe that to Kepner.”

She could tell Jackson wanted more of that story. “You took two bullets to the chest. One was a through and through, punctured a lung going in and out but luckily missed other organs and your spine. But the other... that one should have killed you, would have, if Kepner hadn't done the damnedest thing I've ever seen.”

Jackson's brows arched, clearly indicating he wanted her to tell him about the _damnedest thing._

“That bullet nicked your abdominal aorta.” Bailey continued.

Jackson's eyes flew wide.

“That's right, should have lost you right then and there. I'll bet you lost twenty to thirty percent of your blood volume in the five seconds it took Kepner to open your chest. And it was a mess. Cavity full of blood, everyone in shock, Stadler dying a few feet away. Yeah, that's right. He managed to shoot himself during the struggle for the gun. At least that's what Karev says. And I'm inclined to believe him. So were the police, once they found that dead officer outside.”

Dead officer? What was Bailey talking about?

“So you're probably wondering why you're here and listening to this story after having your aorta cut. Kepner. She opened you up and found the rupture, then held it closed until we could get you to an OR. Damnedest thing I ever saw.”

Bailey was right, he should be dead, he thought. But April had saved him. Karev had said Jackson had saved her and she had turned right back around and saved him. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember how he had come to save April Kepner.

  
  


April drove through the near empty streets, Jackson beside her in the passenger seat. I think the convertible is a better car for her, he thought, but then realized a two seater wouldn't work with Harriet. His mother had come to collect their daughter earlier and take her home with her so they were alone.

April kept her eyes straight ahead, never once looking in his direction. This is going to be tougher than I thought, he told himself.

He cleared his throat. “Wild night, huh?”

She glanced in his direction but remained silent.

“Say, why were you taking the train when you had your car at the hospital?”

“Not that it's any of your business but I had had a few drinks and so had Vik.”

“Ah, smart. The train part I mean.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“April, come on, Vik?”

Jackson didn't think it possible but it seemed April's expression got even harder. “Don't even start.” she growled through gritted teeth.

“It's just... April, that's not you.”

“Like you would know.”

“Of course I know. How can you say that?”

“You don't know shit about me anymore.”

Had he not just returned from immersing himself in a hundred April lives, he might have had to agree. But he was not going to let her brush him off. There was more to this than he had thought. Lifting her off those tracks had merely been the beginning. Now he had to save her life.

  
  


Jackson awoke. His throat was still sore but he thought he might be able to manage a few words now if he had to. But it appeared a moot point since it looked like he might be alone. Then he heard a sound by the window and he realized he wasn't alone. She was there.

She took a few hesitant steps but stopped a few feet short of the bed. They looked at each other in silence for a long moment.

He smiled at her. She did not return it. Instead, she chewed nervously on her lower lip. That lip thing; it made him want to grab her and hold on to her for dear life, Jackson acknowledged. There was something else about that he thought he should know or remember.

“How are you feeling?” she finally broke the silence.

“Okay,.” he croaked hoarsely, “thanks to you.”

She looked away. “Oh please, you took bullets for me.” she said, bringing her gaze back to look at him carefully. “You died for me. Twice.”

“What?” Jackson croaked.

“You coded on the table. They didn't tell you?”

“No.”

“And before that... outside.” she choked on the last word. “But they don't know about that. Only you and I know about that, right?”

Jackson stared at her, not understanding what she was talking about.

She recognized his befuddlement. “You remember what happened out there?”

Jackson shook his head. “No, I don't.” he admitted.

“But you were there. At least for part of it.”

“I..., I don't remember.” he croaked, still at a loss for knowing what she was talking about.

“You were. The police found your car with the engine running behind the police car. And you had my phone in your pocket when you were shot in the ER. You had to have been there. You had to have seen.”

That triggered a memory. He saw himself calling April and again felt the fear overtake him when he heard her phone lying in the dirt a few feet away. The trickle became a flood. “Outside... the dead police officer and ...”

“the you that wasn't you.” April finished for him.

  
  


“Why don't you come up for some coffee?”

“No.”

“I could use the help getting up there.”

“You're really pushing it, pal.” she grumbled. But she shut off the engine, and got out to come around and help him.

Once she got him to the elevator, she made to turn and leave.

“April, please. Come on, talk to me. I know you're hurting.” he pleaded.

“I am fine.” she answered.

“I know that you're not.” he persisted.

“For the last time, you don't know anything. I have nothing to say to you, certainly nothing you'd want to hear. So let's just go back to the way we were before tonight, saying and thinking and feeling nothing about each other.”

“That's not..”

“Yes it is. Let's be real, Jackson. It's you plus Maggie now. There's no place for me in that equation. I get that. So quit trying to convince me that we have any sort of connection. We don't. The only thing left is Harriet and she's the only thing in my life that isn't F'd up right now. So, no, you're not my father, my husband, my pastor, or my friend. You're just some guy I used to be married to.”

“You're wrong, April.”

April shook her head.

Jackson continued before she could say anything else. He had to. Because what she was saying was ripping him apart. “I know everything looks very dark in the place you're at right now. But I promise you, I will always be here for you. No matter what. You can try and drive me away but I won't let you. That's a promise.”

April looked at him. “I'm afraid your promises don't mean as much as they used to. Now just leave me the hell alone.” Then she turned and left.

  
  


“About that, why are you the only one asking me about that?” Jackson asked carefully.

“Because, as I just said, you and I are the only living people who know about it.” she answered. Her expression was strained. He could tell it was a difficult subject for her, understandably.

“But the police...”

“They only found one body, the police officer that Stadler killed. The other body was gone.”

Jackson stared at her. “Gone?” he asked finally.

“Gone.” she answered. “Only two things left behind.”

“What two things?”

“A socket wrench, and this.” She pulled a bloody piece of paper from her pocket. “No one could explain the wrench but they didn't care much. Guess they figured it could have been dropped by anyone.”

“And the paper?”

“It's addressed to me. They figured I dropped it when I lost my phone.”

“Oh?”

“I didn't tell them, though.”

“Tell them what.”

“That I didn't drop it, that I'd never seen it, or the other strange thing about it”

“Which is?”

“It's from you.”

  
  


“Now what?” she asked her pillow. At first she couldn't identify the source of the loud pounding sounds. Her first assumption was they were part of the hangover that made her mouth feel as though she had been chewing on cotton all night. Then she realized the pounding was coming from an external source and only echoing in her aching head. Added to that, her stomach was reminding her that It had really been a mistake to come home and drink that entire bottle of wine after the whiskey earlier in the evening.

“Go away!” she yelled. But it was pretty feeble and had no discernible effect. The pounding continued.

“Didn't take you long to start your revenge on me, did it, God?” she mumbled, pulling herself upright with a groan. “Alright already, I'm coming.” she tried to yell. But the effort was costly as her stomach warned her there was something else coming as well. She barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit.

Having expelled the entire contents of her stomach she staggered through her bedroom toward the front door. Whoever was torturing her was proving themselves dedicated to the cause.

April unlocked the door and yanked it open. “What?” She found herself face to face with Jackson Avery. “Ugh! I should have known it'd be the angel of death.”

“Hey, I had nothing to do with... this.” he indicated her disheveled condition.

“What are you doing here? Was I not clear last night? You are about the last person in the world I want to see right now. And where's Harriet?”

“Harriet is still at my mother's. And I figured last night was the whiskey and sadness talking and by now you'd have realized that you need your best friend. So here I am.”

“Best friend? Are you freaking kidding me? Maybe you're stuck in a time warp or something but we haven't been best friends for a long time.”

Jackson ignored the time warp remark. There was no way he was going to try to tell her that whole story right now. In fact, he doubted he'd ever tell it, to anyone. “Well I guess I didn't get the memo. When did you decide we weren't friends anymore?”

“Hmm, let me think. Was it when you bashed me for days on end for taking that interim job? You remember, when you let everyone else attack me too? Or maybe it was when you screwed me in Montana just before we came back to Seattle and you took up with Maggie?”

“Okay, so you have a valid point about the Minnick thing. I was an ass, a crappy friend, and I apologize for that. But being with you in Montana? I gotta call BS on that. I didn't force anything on you or do anything under false pretenses. When that happened, I …, April, I just wasn't thinking about the consequences or about what it might...” Jackson made air quotes, “mean. For once I was just going with my feelings and being with you that night just felt so right. I should have known you'd feel differently about it. So, I guess I'm sorry for that part too.”

“That part?” April asked warily.

“The part about your feelings. April, I told you before, a long time ago, I will never be sorry for being with you. Ever.”

“How very convenient for you, Jackson. How nice that in your mind you have a lifetime pass to my body with no strings attached. You know what? Maybe you're right. God obviously doesn't give a damn about what goes on down here so what the Hell, let's just do what feels good. Hey, I've got an idea! Let's go do it right now, huh? I'll try not to barf on you while we screw, but no promises.”

“Tempting, but I've got a different idea.” Jackson answered. “Let's go to church.”

  
  


“It's from you, but you didn't write it, did you?” April asked him.

The time for deception long past, Jackson merely shook his head.

“Let's come back to that later.” April said, stuffing the paper back into her pocket. “Now, why don't you tell me the truth?”

“You won't believe me.” he warned.

“Try me.” she answered.

Little did she realize the enormity of the challenge she was issuing.

  
  


It had taken a lot of wrangling but he had finally convinced her to accompany him to church. He pulled into the lot of a Catholic church near her apartment.

“You know I'm not Catholic, right?” she said, gazing up at the imposing edifice through the windshield.

“Does that even matter? It's the same God, isn't it?” he responded.

“When did you start believing in God?”

“This isn't about me.” he answered. No way he was going to get sucked into that argument right now.

“Anyway, it's not Sunday. The place is probably closed.”

As if on cue, the door opened and an older lady exited through it. Jackson smiled. “Looks like God is open for business, even on a weekday.”

April frowned. _I can't catch a frickin break any which way._

“Well, there won't be any services so what the hell am I supposed to do in there?” April asked, ignoring the painful irony that she was asking Jackson Avery what to do in a church.

Jackson looked at her. “Someone once told me he goes to church because it's the only place you can go where people don't think you're crazy for talking to yourself out loud.”

“Now, you're trying to be funny.”

“No, April, I'm not.” he answered her. “I come here to talk to our son. I come here and talk to Samuel.”

  
  


“So you expect me to believe that another Jackson, from another dimension, has been here for the last week?”

“No, I told you I did not expect you to believe it.” Jackson answered. “But, that is the truth.”

“And that's why he knew what he did about the bus crashing, about Webber being electrocuted, about Matthew and his wife? That's how he learned his plastics?”

“Right. Because he had already lived those things. In his universe, Sloan was his mentor. He started out as a Plastics fellow and then became an ENT.”

“And how is it he knew what he knew about me?”

“Because he and the April Kepner in his universe were friends and lovers and spouses and he said...” Jackson trailed off.

“What? What did he say?”

“He said they were meant to be together, in any universe. He said that was why he was being shifted from universe to universe; he had messed things up in his own and it had thrown off all the others. He thought if he could just help make it right in another universe it would give him another chance to make it right in his.”

“What do you mean, _make it right_?”

Jackson shifted uncomfortably. “Be there for you. Protect you. Save you. Save you from your crisis. Save you from...”

“Death.” she finished his sentence.

  
  


April found the church cool and dimly lit, but not quite empty. A woman knelt in prayer while a very young girl sat on the pew next to her, leafing through a picture book. They were too far away for April to see what book it was. April made for the opposite side of the church. The girl looked up and followed her with her eyes.

April slid into a pew in the cavernous church, still unsure of why she had agreed to coming here in the first place. For one thing, she felt like shit warmed over. For another, God was the least likely being she wanted to spend time with right now. Well, actually, that was a toss up between God and Jackson Avery, but somehow she had now been stuck with both. She felt that was just indicative of how badly her life had gone into the crapper.

But here she was. Be a shame to pass up on this opportunity to give this One a piece of her mind.

“So, anybody home?” she whispered, “I actually think you might be here, hiding out in this dark and mostly empty church, while the world outside goes to pot.”

April glanced across the church to make sure her voice wasn't carrying to the other occupants. The lady was still kneeling and praying and the little girl was watching her across the church. But April was pretty sure she couldn't hear her. Just a child's curiosity amid boredom, she assumed.

“So just for your information, it's a real shit show out there. Kids are being shot in their own backyards, mothers are dying and leaving behind babies who'll never know them, and doctors, who are supposed to be helping them can't even help themselves. It's a frickin mess!” her voice rose a little as she warmed to her subject.

“But you don't really care, do you? I can't quite wrap my head around why a God who is supposed to be all about love and light, allows so much death and darkness to go on in the world. I mean I get the whole free will and people choosing to do bad things to other people. But what about this other shit? The crappy things that happen to good people for no apparent reason. How does Matthew going home with their baby but not with Karin, further your plan? Huh? Cause I'd really like to know. How does Eric getting shot by the police in his own backyard help you? How can that be part of a loving God's plan? How do I tell someone that God loves them when it's so hard to see? ”

“Tell me. Because I really want to know. How does my baby, his bones breaking in my womb, how does that fit into your damn plan? Huh? Are you really a loving God? Then fix this! Stop all this senseless death. Heal the broken people out there. Even just some of them. Really, just show up. For once, just show the hell up.”

April didn't realize that she was crying out loud now. She didn't realize it until she saw the woman and her child coming across the church toward her. They stopped in the aisle. The child looked up at the woman and she smiled and nodded. Then the child came forward, inching along the pew until she stood next to April.

“I'm sorry.” April began. “I shouldn't have ..”

But the girl held her book out towards her. “Here.” she said in a quiet voice. “When I was sick my daddy read this to me. It made me feel better. Maybe it will make you feel better too.”

April had a lump in her throat as she tried to protest. “Oh, honey, I can't accept that.”

“It's okay.” the girl insisted. “I'm not sick anymore.”

April took the book in a shaking hand.

“I hope you feel better too.” said the girl, who then turned and made her way back to her mother. It wasn't until they left the church that April looked at the book through the tears that welled in her eyes. _Harriet the Spy_.

  
  


“Lets see if I've got this right. For that Jackson to be able to go back and save the me in his universe, he had to save me in this one?”

“Not _he_ , we.”

“What is your part in this grand plan?” she asked him.

For just a moment, she saw a glimpse of the old Jackson Avery as he stammered and stumbled for an answer to her.

“I had to.., I mean my job.., I was supposed to keep close to you, and protect you.”

There was a long moment of silence while April contemplated that answer.

“Which Jackson was I sleeping with?”

“Him, the first night.”

“And after that?”

“Me.” Jackson admitted.

Again, April considered that answer for a several long moments. Jackson was unable to read the thoughts from her usually expressive face.

“So all that was just so you could stay close to me so this other Jackson could go back to his own universe?”

“No! Of course not.” Jackson protested. “I think you know that's not true. I think you know why I did it.”

  
  


April slid into the passenger seat without a word, staring straight ahead.

Jackson observed her. Her eyes had that freshly cried out look to them. He guessed that might be a good thing. “What's that?” he indicated the book in her hand.

“A reminder I think.” she answered quietly, hugging the book to her chest.

“A reminder? A reminder of what?”

“That not everything is bad and dark and terrible; that there are good and wonderful things in the world too.”

Jackson, sensing that anything he might say would be superfluous, started the engine.

April looked at him at last. “Jackson. Can we go get Harriet now?”

“Sure.” he answered, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the parking spot.

  
  


He didn't see her again until a few days later when she came into his room.

“Hey.” he greeted her.

“How are you?” she asked, picking up his chart.

“Good. Maggie says I can get up and start moving around tomorrow.”

April nodded. “Good.”

Silence fell for several moments.

“How are you?” Jackson asked finally.

“Me? I'm good.”

“Good.” he responded.

A longer, even more awkward silence ensued.

“Okay, I've got to get back. Take it easy tomorrow. Don't overdo it.”

“Yes, ma'am.” he answered.

Then she was gone, leaving Jackson wondering if it was ever not going to be awkward between them again.

  
  


  
  


“What are you doing?” she asked, when she saw him getting out of the car at her apartment.

“Helping you with all the stuff.” he answered.

“Don't bother. I can manage.” she huffed.

“It's no bother.” he answered.

Can this guy not take a hint, she asked herself. “You can barely walk and I don't need your help.” she answered testily.

“Even so.” he replied, refusing to make eye contact with her.

She shook her head in frustration. She was well acquainted with Jackson Avery stubbornness, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with. “Suit yourself then.” April walked on up with Harriet, leaving Jackson to struggle with the diaper bag and other assorted paraphernalia.

He was sweating a little by the time he entered her apartment to find her rocking their daughter. Jackson set everything down and stood, waiting for an invitation to sit down that didn't seem to be forthcoming. Finally, he took a seat on the couch. She wasn't going to get rid of him that easily, he silently vowed.

April rolled her eyes heavenward and sighed. “Don't you have somewhere to be?”

“Yes.” he replied.

She shook her head as if to say “Well?”

“Here,” he answered matter-of-factly, “this is where I have to be.”

“No, I assure you, you do not. Don't you understand, I don't want you here? Do I really have to spell it out?”

“Maybe so.”

“Okay, then here we go. You say I make you crazy? That I make your life crazy? Well let me tell you that you make mine painful. You think it's just what happened at work that makes me sad and angry? You think it's just God I'm angry at, just God I hate? You don't give yourself near enough credit, my friend.”

The way she spit out the _my friend_ part stung him. He knew it was intentional too. But April was warming up to the opportunity now.

“If not for you I'd be married to Matthew and probably have a house full of kids by now. I would have been a virgin on my wedding night. I would have only been with one man, a man who shared and respected my beliefs and supported my faith instead of ridiculing it.”

Her voice lowered now. “I would never have had to hold my baby in my arms while he died. I would never have had to live through a painful divorce, feeling like I was the only one interested in fixing things. I wouldn't have been terrified at losing custody of my baby before it was even born. I wouldn't have had to take a bunch of crap from someone who doesn't value my abilities or decisions even when he should know better than anyone else what I'm about.”

He could see she was on the verge of tears again. He wondered if April would ever have enough tears for the pain she had endured. So he willed himself to endure this. He forced himself to remain silent. He knew that, unlike other times, she needed his silence. She needed to get the poison out. And his silence would help. It would help draw it out of her. For once he would sit and endure and leave his defenses down. He would take the pain and anger and regret that she poured out on him and gather it in. It was, he realized, the true sacrifice that was required of him.

“But in spite of all that, I still believed in you, in us. And in Montana, I shouldn't have allowed myself to hope, to believe, that you and I could be together again. You fooled me, you know; I would have never believed you could think so little of me that you could screw me just for fun. I wouldn't have been with you if I had known it was just sex to you. I wouldn't have let myself think we could be again if I had known you wanted someone else, that you didn't want me. So, no, Jackson, it's not just God that I've been hating lately.”

She sat in the rocker, Harriet asleep on her chest, and Jackson knew that she had finally said aloud the thoughts that had been tearing her apart for so long. She stared at him, probably expecting him to defend himself, to point out the mistakes they both knew she had made, and regretted. Why wouldn't she expect that? It was what he always did.

Jackson remained silent, waiting, waiting for the right moment to speak. He had to be sure she was done venting. He also had to preempt any attempt she might make to walk any of it back. He knew it was not in her nature to hurt anyone. But it was time for his sacrifice, not hers. He would only get this one chance, and he had to get it right.

Finally he saw what he was waiting for. She broke off her hard stare and looked away. He knew in her head she was thinking _So, he's opting for the stony silent response huh? It's always been his next best option._ Now!

“April, I don't know what your life would have been like if we hadn't gotten together in San Francisco. I'm sure you're right about most all of it. I can't go back and change those things. Though I wish for all the world that I could. You are the last person on earth that I want to cause pain for.”

Caught by surprise, April was looking at him again, but her gaze lacked a bit of the sharp edge it had before.

“But I do know that if we had never been together, if I hadn't stood up in that barn that day, then it's pretty likely I'd never have known the pain either.” He saw her mouth begin to form a frown. He could read her mind. _Here it comes._

“You see, I've been thinking about it a lot lately, thinking about us.”

He saw the surprise on her face. If only she knew the truth of it.

“You're not the only one who hates me for the pain you've had to endure, for the pain I've caused you. You're not the only one who's questioned whether you would have been better off if we'd never been together. As for God..., April, I've hated and resented Him for a helluva lot longer than you have. I always figured it was God that made you choose to marry Matthew so soon after you didn't want to marry me. And even when we were married it always seemed like it was God that was coming between us. I resented that He came first for you. So, yeah, I took as many shots at Him as I could.

And then with Samuel I promised that if He would just show up for you, for us, I would put all that aside. But He didn't, not the way I wanted Him to at least. And then jealousy turned to hate pretty quickly. I hated Him for not showing up and I hated myself for not being able to help you. And to be perfectly honest, I hated you a little too for leaving me to fend for myself. It took almost losing you on Meredith's table to finally put that behind me.”

Jackson could see her eyes glistening. He felt the moisture at the edges of his own as well. But he had to push through.

"I've also wondered if I would have been better off without you. Because, you know, if not for you I would never have known the pain of loving someone so much it hurts to breathe sometimes. Make that two someones actually, because if not for you I wouldn't have Harriet either. Because that's what it comes down to April. I realize now that my choice, if you let me still have a choice, is simple. I can either take the coward's route, play it safe, let you go your way, and have myself a practically perfectly painless life. Or I can step up and take the braver road. I can risk it all to love the only woman who could ever cause me that pain. The only one I could ever love enough to feel that terrifying, glorious, heartaching, heartbreaking, heartmaking pain again.”

“So, April Kepner, I deeply regret that it took me so long to figure this out. But if you'd consider giving me another chance, I'd very much love to be in pain with you again.”

  
  


“Hey.”

“Hey.” he answered. She hadn't visited him again. He had seen her occasionally as his walks through the hospital corridors got progressively longer. But they hadn't spoken. He took that to mean the she preferred to not have contact with him. It broke his heart, but didn't shock him.

“I hear they are springing you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, finally.”

“Be good to get out of here, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

“So how are you getting home?”

“Uber? Taxi? Not sure.”

“How about I give you a lift?”

“You?”

“Yes, me. I'll even drive carefully.” she smiled.

He caught the gentle reminder that he'd always held on tight while a passenger in her Miata. “You don't have to, you know. You don't owe me anything.”

“I know I don't have to,” she replied, “although I may want to argue that part about owing you. I can make a pretty good case for Wilson and I both owing you, I think.”

“Well...”

“Good, it's settled then. I'll check with Pierce about when she plans to cut you loose.”

“Okay, as long as it's no trouble. Thanks.”

April smiled. “That's what friends are for, dummy.”

Jackson smiled back though her use of the word _friends_ concerned him. Was she sending a message? If so, the damage to his heart wouldn't be anything Maggie Pierce could help with.

  
  


Be patient, he told himself. She's suffered so much lately she can't be expected to come out of it all at once, no matter what he said or did. So he resolved to do what he could, be there for her when she wanted or needed him, care for Harriet so she wouldn't worry about her, and look for any opportunities to help her heal that might present themselves. And lo and behold, an opportunity arose that he thought might fit the bill.

“Jackson, is that what I think it is?” Bailey asked.

“Yes, I'm afraid so. We'll run some tests but it looks like a classic case of toxic epidermal necrolysis, brought on by an allergic reaction to the antibiotics.”

“The ones I prescribed.”

“Chief, come on. You had no way of knowing.”

“Prognosis?” Bailey asked.

Jackson shook his head.

“Oh Lord. He's a rabbi, you know? I've talked to him for hours about God and life and everything. He has such a great perspective on all of it. He came in for treatment when I was struggling with Ben's decision to become a firefighter. And he helped me more than I helped him. Oh God, now I've got to go tell him this. He'll probably spend the rest of his time trying to make me feel better.”

Jackson stared at her. It was a risk but … “Bailey, can I ask you a huge favor?”

Minutes later, April Kepner was at Eli's bedside, not knowing that Bailey had handed the case off to her at Jackson's request.

  
  


When they wheeled him out of the hospital, despite the protests that he could walk, and the reminder that it was against hospital policy to let him, he found April and her Miata waiting for him.

It wasn't until they had gone two blocks and she made an unexpected turn that he questioned whether she knew where he lived. She merely smiled.

Fifteen minutes later he realized where she was taking him. He looked at her in shocked amazement.

It wasn't until ten minutes later, after she had pulled into a parking space and stopped the engine, that he was able to find his voice.

“How do you know about this place?”

“I've been here before.” she answered.

“How? I don't understand.”

In response she pulled from her jacket pocket a piece of paper that still bore bloodstains from weeks earlier. She handed it to him.

He unfolded it and read...

April,

I know there have been some crazy and inexplicable things happening around you lately. A lot of them have involved me.

And, if you're reading this, it means at least one more thing has happened that you have to cope with. I know this because it almost certainly means that I'm dead.

I'm also betting that the circumstances may lead you to want to blame yourself. Please don't.

I told you this afternoon that it was all for you. That you are loved. I know you did not believe that. But it is true. There is no reality where I do not love you. And if loving you means I have to die for you then I tell you sincerely that I'll do that gladly. Because living without you is not living. You are the one for me.

And I may not believe in God like you do but I do believe I was meant for you from the very first moment of my life. So I guess I have to admit someone made that plan.

I can't explain to you how I know this but I do.

I do have one request. My mother's address is below. She has Alzheimer's. She will have no one if I'm gone. If you could find it in your heart to look after her, when I can't, I would be eternally grateful.

Love Always, Jackson

  
  


Jackson swallowed hard. He had considered writing something similar but had never done it. His other self though, had. He obviously had known that, in the end, this Jackson would make the sacrifice. He looked at April.

She looked back at him. “You didn't write this, did you?”

“No.”

“But he was talking about you, wasn't he?”

“He was talking about both of us, all of us.”

“The last thing he said was _He is coming._ He meant you, didn't he?” she asked him.

“Yes.”

“How did he know?”

“He knew I loved you. Just like he loved his April.”

“Do you think he was able to save her, his April?”

“I don't know. I like to think so. I think maybe he did though.”

“Why?”

“Because we're both still here. I think maybe that's the way its supposed to be.”

“You and me?”

“You and me.” he answered.

April nodded. “Okay.” she said simply.

  
  


She was looking through the window at daycare when he arrived.

“Oh, hey, I thought I was picking her up tonight?”

“Yes, yes, but I was hoping maybe, maybe you'd let me have her tonight?”

“Of course. Sure.”

“It's just, well, I just really need to have her with me right now.”

“Sure, I understand.”

After a moment of silence, he nodded and turned to leave.

“Jackson. “ she called.

He turned back toward her.

“It's just been really rough lately.”

He nodded.

“You know, I lost God. I lost my faith. Really I lost my faith in everything.”

Jackson nodded again.

“And I want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said I hated you.”

“April, it's okay. The two of us, we should never be afraid of honesty.”

She looked up at him. “Okay. But I just want you to know, I've found it again. I've found Him again. And I think I'm going to be okay now.”

Jackson smiled. “April, I'm happy for you.”

“Thank you.” she said, and he thought he knew what she was really thanking him for.

“Any time.” he answered. And he turned to go but after just a couple of steps he heard her call to him again.

“Did you mean it? What you said before?”

Jackson turned back towards her. Was this happening? Was it really happening? “Yes, April, I meant every word of it.”

“And you're not with Maggie?”

“No, never quite was really. And whatever thing there might have been is long gone.”

April looked back at him and he knew she was turning things over in her mind. That gave him hope. It might take a day, a week, a month, a year maybe, but there was a chance. And even the possibility of a chance was enough to make his heart leap.

He saw her nod her head and knew that this time she wouldn't be calling him back. But that was okay. The door had opened a crack. And if he was correct about the little smile he saw on her face, the first one in a long long while, then the first step had been taken. He was home for good.

  
  


Jackson was surprised that his mother, for the first time in a long time, seemed to recognize him. At least it appeared that way, from her expressions and apparent excitement when they entered her room.

He began to introduce April but she had brushed by him to give Catherine a hug. “We've already met. Hi Mama Avery how are you? You look beautiful today.”

An hour later, they were getting ready to leave, Jackson was telling his mother he'd be back soon and April looked at the pictures on the wall. “Jackson, who is this?” she asked.

Jackson came to stand beside her and peered at the picture she was pointing to. It was a new one, one that he had never seen before. But before he could say his guess aloud, his mother spoke.

“That's Harriet, my granddaughter.” Catherine said, clear as day.

“Granddaughter?” asked April, looking at Jackson.

“Uh, I guess I forgot to tell you that part.” he answered.

“This story of yours just gets more and more interesting.” April answered him.

The story took yet another interesting turn when instead of bringing Jackson to his apartment, he found himself pulling into April's garage.

“Uh...”

“Seriously? You going to argue with me about this again?”

“No!” he answered quickly. Not a chance.

“So don't get your panties in a wad,” she told him as they entered the house. “you need someone to look after you for awhile and I can do it a lot easier with you here than at that dump you call your apartment.”

He found quite a few of his things waiting for him in her house. “Of course, I had to go get your clothes.” she explained. “I couldn't share mine with you though it would have been amusing to try. I made my best guess. And I hope you appreciate how many trips I had to make. My car's trunk is about the size of a shoebox so I was bouncing back and forth all last week.”

“All last week? When did you decide you wanted to do this?” Jackson asked.

“Not too long ago.” April answered evasively.

Jackson leveled an accusatory stare at her.

“Okay, a little while ago. After you woke up.”

He continued to look at her. She couldn't endure it.

“Okay, just after you finally told me the truth. The incomplete truth, apparently, as I learned today.”

“I told you all the pertinent stuff.” he protested.

“You don't think us having a child is pertinent?” she exclaimed.

“Not something a mother usually needs to be informed about.” he responded. “Besides, Harriet really isn't _our_ child, you know.” Jackson reminded her as he moved toward a seat on the couch.

“Tell that to your mother.” she answered.

But when he looked up at her, she was smiling. And Jackson knew that there was nothing he wanted more than to be with her for the rest of his life.

April must have seen it in his eyes for she came and sat down next to him and her expression became serious. “I know that look. If you're going to look at me like that then you'd better be damn sure. This better not be some sci fi thing to fix something in some other dimension. I'm here, in this reality. And if you want to be with me, you'd better be ready to stick with me here, no matter what. Do you hear me?”

“I do.” he answered. “I absolutely do. I love you, April Kepner.”

April sighed. “I love you too, Jackson Avery. Damn it! I love you too.”

 


	19. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year has passed and change is in the air.

“How do I look?”

“Fantastic. You look great.”

She gave him that smiley frowning face that only she could make. “You're just saying that because you have to.”

“Well, it is true that we have a legally binding contract that obligates me to be nice to you. But this one is off the books. You look great. Really.”

“Really? Because I really need to. You only get one first impression.”

“God, April, you look great! If you looked any better they would think they'd hired a super model instead of a Chief of Trauma.” This was the very first time Jackson had seen April nervous about anything. It both entertained and scared him a little. He hadn't thought it possible to rattle his badass trauma surgeon wife. But, he acknowledged, it was a big day for her. It was her first day on the job at UCSF Medical Center and a huge career step for her. It was actually a big step for both of them. They had thought long and hard about it before she accepted the offer. It had meant leaving all their friends and jobs in which they were well established and comfortable. It also meant moving from one high cost of living city to another where the cost of living is stratospheric.

But the offer was too good to pass up. Not only would April be a highly paid Chief of Trauma, she would also be doing a lot of teaching, something she loved and was very good at. And it would give them a fresh start away from Grey Sloan, where there were still some questions, stories, and rumors circulating about the strange and nearly tragic events of a year ago. UCSF closed the deal by also offering Jackson an ENT position that paid rather better than his Grey Sloan gig, and, though he was less enthused about leading med students and first years around than April was, he thought it might offer a nice change of pace. Regardless, it was a given that he'd follow her anywhere. And San Francisco was a pretty nice, albeit expensive, anywhere.

The last big obstacle had been what to do with his mother. But the Schneider Residence people had worked with them to find a similar facility just on the other side of the Golden Gate in Marin, and she had weathered the move well.

April picked up his toast and took a bite. “Okay, I'm off then. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” Jackson answered.

“Seriously? I give you an opening like that and you just sit there and say _Good Luck_?”

Jackson laughed and jumped up from his seat to gather her into his arms.

“Don't mess up my makeup!” she squealed.

“Screw the makeup.” he answered, before kissing her deeply. “Good luck.” he breathed when they finally came up for air.

“Now that's more like it.” she breathed back. “Aah, gotta go.”

He released her and she smoothed her clothes back out and turned for the door.

“Love you.” he called. He was mildly disappointed when she didn't reply. But that evaporated when she ran back into the room and kissed him a final time, before turning and dashing out again. He heard the door slam and sighed. Damn, life is good, he thought. Then, as they often did, his thoughts turned to the other Jackson and his hopes that his other self had also found his happiness with April.

  
  


“A fresh start?”

“Yes, I think that if we're going to do this, we might want a fresh start. You know, somewhere we won't have to continually be reminded of the bad times.”

Jackson thought about it a moment. April could be on to something here. Being with her for just a few days in Montana had allowed him to temporarily forget all the baggage their relationship had generated. Maybe starting over in a different place would help.

“Any ideas?” he asked her.

“What would you think about San Francisco?” she ventured. “I got a call from a headhunter just the other day. They are looking for a new Chief of Trauma at UCSF. It's a teaching hospital and so the position involves a lot of that. But I think I would like that.”

“I think you would too. San Francisco, huh?”

“Just something to think about.” April replied.

Jackson smiled.

'What?” April smiled back.

“I was just thinking that San Francisco isn't completely a fresh start. We've already had one start there, remember.”

“I remember. So should we cross San Francisco off our list?”

“If you're asking me, I'd say it strengthens the case for it. Those memories are pretty good for me.”

“They had their moments.” April conceded with a smile. “So I guess I'll call that recruiter?”

“Sure. Just make sure they give you what you deserve.”

“Yes, it's very expensive down there.”

“April,” Jackson smiled again. “Don't forget, we're rich.”

“You're rich. I'm not.” she answered.

“Which brings me to the next item on my agenda.” Jackson answered, removing a small box from his pocket.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided I needed to preempt Greys and give April the departure from Seattle that she deserves. Sorry Chicago and New York (and Athens, Johannesburg, and Sri Lanka), we need April Kepner in California :-)

**Author's Note:**

> So this story has been kicking around in my head since long before I discovered Greys and Japril. Last night I happened upon a new series called Counterpart (which is pretty cool) and it pulled this idea back to the surface of my consciousness. I think its a good fit for Japril. Hopefully, I can convince you to feel the same.
> 
> I would love feedback on this, particularly as I'm flying this one totally by the seat of my pants. Please consider commenting, no matter how brief.


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